Into The Fire
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: Detective Elliot Stabler has lost four partners in three years. With number five, though, there's an instantaneous connection, immediate trust, & something between them that defies definition. It hasn't been long, but he is willing to risk everything and walk into the fire with her. That's a good thing, because, now, that's exactly what he has to do. EO Rated M
1. Chapter 1

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

She walked into the apartment first, switching on the light and kicking off her boots. She took off her brown leather jacket, hung it on the hook, and tugged down her shirt a bit, knowing that it had ridden up as she climbed the stairs.

She froze, then, and held her breath until she heard the click of the door, and the second, louder one telling her he'd locked it. She turned, finally exhaling, and looked around with half-open arms. "Home sweet home," she said to him, shrugging.

He, too, let his eyes wander about the place, and he nodded approvingly. "Nice digs," he told her, taking off his own leather jacket. He hung it next to hers, slipped out of his shoes as she had done, and let his eyes roam around the apartment again. "Hey," he said, and then he narrowed his eyes, his focus now intent on something in the corner of the room. "Hold on," he murmured. "Liv, is that..." he ran, then, stopping mid-sentence, toward the object that had stolen his attention.

She watched, grinning, as he smoothed the fingertips of his right hand down the curved neck and body of the instrument. Something in the way he touched it send chills down her spine and heat to other parts of her body.

His eyes, still wide open, brightened as he gently lifted it out of its stand. "A '57 Gibson Les Paul," he almost whispered. "This is the Mona Lisa of guitars."

"Yeah," she said, biting her lip. "It is." She took a soft-footed step closer to him. "You play?"

"Used to," he told her, "In high school. I, uh, did a lot of things in high school that I, um, haven't done since." He licked his lips and looked at her. "Can I...?" He tilted the guitar. "I mean, it would be better plugged-in, but...can I?"

The look on his face was one she could not refuse. She sat on the arm of her sofa and said, "Go for it."

With a delicate touch, he slipped the blue-marbled pick out from between the strings, slid one hand down the body and wrapped the other around the neck, looked at Olivia with a smile that could stop wars, and played the opening chords of Eric Clapton's _Layla_. He strummed the melody and hummed for a moment, before breaking into a full-on vocal performance of the tune. He made it through one verse and the chorus before stopping, turning his head, and staring at Olivia.

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This guitar," he said, shaking his head as he very carefully pushed the pick into place and set it down in its cradle, "It's in mint condition. That's, what, a quarter-of-a-million dollars?"

She smirked as she stood up, moving toward her kitchen. She looked over her shoulder at him as she opened the refrigerator. "I won it in a poker game, El," she told him with a soft laugh.

"Wait, you're telling me...that beautiful work of art just sits there? You don't play it?" he asked, stunned. He reached out a hand to take one of the beer bottles from her, when she was close enough.

"Oh, I play it," she said. She took a sip of cold beer, swallowed, and wiped the corners of her lips. "I'm just a hell-of-a-lot better at plying poker." She took another sip. "I didn't know you could sing." She eyed him for a moment. "There's a lot I don't know about you, isn't there?"

He smirked at her wickedly and nodded as he took a gulp of his beer. "Plenty of time to find out," he told her. He looked her up and down, his mouth going dry, and he knocked back another long wash of beer. "There's obviously a lot I don't know about you, too, Benson."

She chuckled and moved, walking around the side of the sofa and plopping into it. "Only been partners for two months," she said. She looked directly into his eyes as she brought her bottle to her lips. She didn't know much about him, yet, but she knew enough. She knew he was Catholic, but there were certain things he didn't exactly consider sins. She knew he was trapped in a loveless marriage, and that he had already set its expiration date. She also knew the real reason he was with her tonight, and not with his as-good-as-ex-wife.

He sat beside her, taking one last long swig of beer before setting the bottle down on a coaster on the coffee table. He kicked up his left leg, resting his ankle on his right knee, and twisted to the side a bit to fully face Olivia. "Any other hidden talents I should know about?"

"I can break a cinder block in half with my bare hands," she said, and she grinned slyly as her next words formed on her tongue, knowing the reaction they would pull from him. "And I can tie a knot in a cherry stem with my tongue."

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, and his right hand moved from his knee to his lap as his left unbuttoned and removed his crisp white shirt. "You can do that?" he asked, pulling at the collar of his white tee shirt.

She looked away, nodding and laughing proudly to herself. "What about you?" She gave him a sideways glance, knowing that she was fanning dangerously hot flames. If anyone asked if she gave a shit, she'd say no.

He pressed his lips together, scooted closer to her, and lowered his voice a bit. He gave her a flirtatious grin as he said, "I've got a couple. You'll find out, soon enough."

"Will I?" she questioned, trying to look into his eyes as he moved closer to her, but her sight settled on his lips. That's when she knew exactly what he was doing. She felt his body cover hers and heard his evil chuckle, and then she let her head rest on the arm of the couch and looked up at him. "What are we doing?" she asked, her eyes dropping to his chest for a moment. She ran her fingers along the collar of his tee shirt and then looked back up at him.

He sighed as he peered down into her eyes. He brushed her hair back with the same tenderness he'd used on her guitar. "Getting into a lot of fucking trouble." He shook his head. "This isn't just..." he paused. "I don't want you think I have a habit of doing this. You're the first woman since..." again, he stopped, trying to find words that didn't sound dumb, refusing to bring his failing marriage into this.

"I know," she said, saving him and his dignity. "You don't think I see it? In your eyes, in the way you move, in the things you say to me," she bit her lip and slid her hands lower, curling them under his shirt.

He moaned and closed his eyes; her hands on his bare back felt like Heaven. He dropped his forehead to hers and whispered, "I wouldn't do this if I didn't..." His words stopped. There was no way he could be falling in love with her; he hadn't known her nearly long enough, but there were intense feelings between them, a chemistry that could not and would not be ignored. He gave up trying to explain himself, figuring he had already condemned himself and shoved his marriage down a rabbit-hole.

She reacted to his kiss with a shiver and a soft gasp, her nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder blades as she struggled to get closer to him.

He moved his legs, letting himself fall to her, no longer worried about how she would handle under his weight. He knew. God, how he knew. He let his tongue tango with hers as he fiddled with the buttons of her shirt. He split the fabric, pushed its wings aside, and grazed the skin of her stomach and chest with his palms before cupping her bra-shielded breasts.

"Elliot," she moaned, scratching down his spine hard.

He seethed, but did not back away from their kiss. He curled his body a bit, working one arm under her body, and within seconds, he had her bra unclasped and on the rug below him.

She chuckled, but it was caught by his opened mouth. She remembered how clumsily he handled that particular garment, the first night they fooled around, seven days ago, after a lot of encouragement from Johnny Walker and Jack Daniels. He blamed inexperience, but he'd spent the last week improving his technique, practicing on her, only her.

He knew what she was laughing at; her punishment was a hard nip to her lower lip. He growled as he moved his gnashing teeth to her neck, finding a sweet spot that made her sing. He shoved one hand downward, into her black pants, groaning with her skin in his mouth when he found out she wasn't wearing underwear, and that it was a good thing. They'd be utterly useless by now. "So wet," he whispered, his biting turned to kissing.

Her nails were still dragging along his back, up and down, harder and slower. "Elliot," she breathed again, her hip rising to meet his teasing hand.

He chuckled, his hot breath hit her ear and made her moan again, and he whispered, "God, damn it, Olivia, you're dripping for me." He slid his hand away from her hot,wet pussy, just long enough to unzip her slacks. He gave her a swat as he pulled back from her, telling her to arch her back. He yanked her pants down, making appreciative noises as she bent her legs and kicked them away. He grabbed her right ankle, straightening out her leg and kissing her shin as he pulled off her thin, black sock. He did the same to her left leg, and then bent his head to kiss his way up her toned stomach and perfect chest.

She let soft utterances of his name fly off her tongue as she pulled off his shirt and threw it over her head, not caring where it landed. She helped him get out of his black pants, but he didn't give her a chance to help with anything else. He flattened over her again, reattached his lips to her neck, and used one hand to tug off his socks as the other returned to its home between Olivia's thighs.

She moaned his name, gripping at his sides, trying to get him to give her what she so desperately wanted. "El," she whimpered, feeling two of his fingers work their way into her. "Elliot, please, don't tease me."

His heart thudded and his stomach tightened as he pulled his hand from her and sucked his fingers into his mouth. His eyes rolled, a look of ecstasy took over his face, and he moved his body just a bit lower to lineup perfectly with hers. He looked down at her, smiling, and as soon as his lips touched hers, he gave a hard thrust of his hips and buried himself inside of her. He caught her cry in his mouth, swallowing her yelp and a moan of his name. He began to move slowly, inching out and back in at a pace that made his thighs burn and his hips quake.

She kissed him back just as deeply, her body bending to his will and obeying his every command. She wound one leg around his waist, pulling, attempting to get him closer, deeper.

He increased speed and power, the sounds of slapping skin and wet flesh hitting his ears, and it made him shiver as he whispered her name against her lips. He felt his muscles begin to tighten and twitch, and he had to use every ounce of control he had to keep from cumming too soon, before he got her where he wanted and needed her.

"Oh, fuck, Elliot," she panted. "So close. Don't stop."

He shook his head and latched his mouth onto hers again. He had no intention of stopping, which was a blessing and a curse. He moved a bit faster, harder still, his breaths now coming in short grunts. "Yes, fuck, baby," he said with a clenched jaw, feeling her clamp around him. "Oh, God, fuck," he spat in a harsh whisper.

Her eyes rolled back, her neck bent sharply, her hips rose and her back arched in an impossibly perfect curve as she cried his name again, tightening around him so tensely he could no longer pull out, stilling him.

"Fuck," he hissed, feeling her pulsate and throb around his cock. He shivered as he lost his final bit of resolve and her name fell off of his lips on a long, slow moan as he gave one last hard inward thrust, just to get that final length deeper. He cursed as he came, firing into her like a fiery rocket, his fingers pressing into her hips so hard they were leaving angry white imprints.

She collapsed down into the cushions, trembling as her second wave rolled over and through her, but his powerful arms held her tight to him. She could feel him sputtering and jerking, and she loved every blessed moment of it.

They were quiet, then, just breathing each other in, staying connected to wait out any residual contractions or release that might sneak up on them, because they always did. When he was sure they were finished, that the calm had covered them, he kissed her softly, sweetly, and whispered something he knew he had no right to say to her, but that he couldn't help firmly believing.

Her tired eyes fluttered open, gazing up into his. "What about..."

"Don't," he said, stopping her from bringing up any of the obstacles they had to face now. "We'll deal with it. All of it. I swear to you," he whispered, and then he kissed her with such emotion and conviction that it had to prove to her how serious he was.

From some long-forgotten part of the room, buried under a pile of once-offensive clothes, she heard a phone ring. She moaned in annoyance, shaking her head as she kissed him. "Not now," she complained.

He sighed, unhappily pulling away from her. "We knew it would ring eventually," he said.

"Usually, by the time it does, I've gotten some of the feeling in my legs back." She laughed, but she was only half-kidding. She smiled at him, kissed him again, and wheezed as he pulled out of her and rolled away, getting up to find which of their phones was ringing.

"Me," he said to her, holding up his phone. Naked, and not bothered at all, he put a hand on his hip and answered the call. "Stabler," he said, staring down at Olivia. He took in the sight of her, splayed nude on the couch, glistening with sweat, her neck and chest a rosy pink and her parted thighs red and begging for him to come home. "Yeah," he said, suppressing a moan. "Okay, we'll be right there." He hung up, and only then he noticed he'd been stroking himself back to full-staff.

She licked her lips as she sat up. "Save it for later," she said with a wink.

He chuckled as he bent to pick up their clothes. He tossed hers to her as he said, "Is that a promise?"

"Unfortunately," she all but whispered. "I was serious, before, El," she said, shimmying back into her work pants, the sticky state of her skin making it difficult. "What are we doing?"

He walked over to her, his pants on but not yet fully fastened, and he held her face in both of his hands. He gave her a sweet, deep kiss, one that reached her very soul, and he looked into her brown eyes as he said, "Getting it right, this time." He pulled away and buckled his belt, and then pulled his tee shirt over his head.

She caught her bra as he tossed it to her, and she got herself into it while she let his words resonate. "El?" she called to him.

He turned to look at her as he buttoned up his white shirt. "Yeah?"

She smiled at him as she buttoned up her own shirt. "What you said to me," she began, her lip caught between her teeth, "I, uh, I feel that way, too." She watched as his whole body seemed to relax, and the relieved laugh that hit her ears made her heart swell.

It wouldn't be easy, and it would come at a cost, but there was no turning back now.

They were walking right into the fire, and they were not the least bit concerned about getting burned.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.  
**_

"That was an interesting conversation," Olivia told him, smirking. "Well, the one side of it I could hear." She gave him a sideways glance as they walked toward the large, concrete building in the middle of the street. "You're getting good at that."

"At what?" he asked, tugging on his blue and grey striped tie as he reached for the door to One-Police-Plaza with his other hand.

"Lying to your wife," she said, her voice dark and almost proud. "Makes me wonder if you've ever..."

"I have never lied to you," he interrupted. He was staring at her with a severe look, no trace of a smile. "I never will."

The firmness in the way he said it and the way his eyes seemed to gaze into her soul as he spoke gave her every reason to believe his words. She felt her breath catch and all she could do was nod.

He nudged her, getting her to walk. "Let's get this over with," he groaned, leading her down the hall. "The less time we spend with Tucker, the better."

She chuckled as she shoved her hand into the pocket of her blue blazer. She slipped a piece of chewing gum out of its pack, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth. She offered him a piece, shrugging and putting it away when he declined. "Why couldn't he meet us at the house?" she asked. "He shows up unannounced when we don't need him all the fucking time," she complained.

"Because it's inconvenient for him," Elliot mocked, rolling his eyes. He shoved a hand in his pocket, raising the other to knock on Tucker's door. He cleared his throat as his eyes wandered down Olivia's body, traveled the length of her legs, back up to her ass. He grinned smugly, licked his lips, and opened his mouth to speak. He never got the chance.

"You two," Tucker said, "Have a bad habit of getting on my damn nerves." He gave Elliot a disdainful expression and moved aside, opening his door wider. "What shit did the two of you step in, and why is it my problem?"

"You instantly assume it's something we did," Elliot griped. "Ever think we need you in on an internal investigation? You know, since that's your job, and all."

Tucker smirked as he crossed his arms and leaned up against his desk. "Better the odds that your temper got you into trouble," he said. He looked at Olivia. "Or you got too involved, in over your head." He shrugged. "How wrong am I?"

Olivia pressed her lips together and contained the urge to say something snarky. "Very," she said dryly. "Our vic," she began, crossing her arms. "Is a cop. According to the, uh, sample that was left on her, so's her attacker. Isn't that where you come in?"

"We obviously need you on this," Elliot added, ignoring the steam now coming out of Tucker's ears. "Trust me, we wouldn't come down here for any other reason." He turned and looked at Olivia, and his heart stopped. It didn't matter how dire the situation was, or how important what Tucker was blathering on about was, his attention was lost to her. Her dark hair, falling just to her shoulders, caught what little light there was in the office. Her steamy look, a combination of anger and annoyance, both directed at Tucker, brought to mind the way she blew off that steam in the bedroom. He shifted his weight and tugged discreetly on his pants. God, he couldn't wait.

"Stabler!" Tucker shouted, finally garnering Elliot's attention. "Did you hear me?"

"Uh, yeah, yup," Elliot said, nodding at him. "Yes."

"Make sure you've got it solid," Tucker sneered, now looking at Olivia. "I'm not going to destroy a good cop's life if this was a one-night-stand gone..."

"We have his DNA," Olivia interjected, her eyes narrowed. "How much more solid do you need?"

"You know damn well that could've been consensual, before her attack. You've seen it before. You get something something rock-solid by five-thirty," Tucker said, "That's when I'll be down to your station to settle it all." He frowned, nodding once at her. "Anything else?" He turned toward Elliot.

Elliot shook his head. "Thanks," he scoffed, and he led Olivia back out through the office door.

With an amused grin, she looked at him. "You didn't hear a damn thing he said, did you?"

"Not a word," he told her as they walked. "Why? Did I miss the one time he said something intelligent?"

She laughed. "No, he wanted to know who the vic was, details, and then he was asking you if you could handle the case."

"Why wouldn't I be able to?" He squinted and tilted his head.

"The last time we had an officer-involved case like this, you almost broke his arm in interrogation." She snapped her gum. "I thought it was kind of hot, but no one else did."

He stood a little straighter at her words. "Speaking of hot," he said, and then he leaned just a bit closer to her as they walked. "Your place, tonight. I'm going to try to wait until we make it to the bedroom, but, you know, no promises." He licked his lips. "I have been wondering what you're wearing under that suit for hours."

She shook her head at him. "You watched me get dressed. You already know."

"Well, I forgot," he said with a playful shrug and a wink. He sobered, then, as they took a few more steps, heading deeper into what was shaping up to be a horrible case. He took a deep breath and refocused, training his mind back on the job. "A cop. A fucking cop. Fuck."

"Yeah," she sighed, "I know." She chewed he gum for a brief moment, thinking. "We have to talk to him, you know. To see if he really was with her before..."

"We play this one by Tucker's rules," he said, cutting into her words. "I know. As much as I hate it, the son-of-a-bitch might be right. Did you know her?"

"Not really," she said with a drawn-on pout. "Only in passing. Did you?"

"No, not at all." He pulled her toward a coffee truck, immediately ordering two large cups of whatever was on special. "I want to be sure Tucker can't claim some kind of conflict of interest the way he tried to the last time." He took the coffees from the vendor and set them down on the small counter. As he fixed them, he said, "As far as we go, he can't. I'm just not sure we can say the same thing about Cragen. He used to head up Homicide, didn't he? At the Two-Seven?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding as she took a cup of coffee from him. "So? What does that have to do with..."

"Her sister is the new captain over there," he said, stopping her. He took a sip of his coffee as he held out a five-dollar-bill to the vendor. "I'm pretty sure Cragen might have known her."

"Well, he doesn't have to have hands on it," she said, sipping her own cup and waving at the man in the truck. "It's our case! We don't have a choice, here, it's our jurisdiction and it's obviously a..."

"Hey," he said after swallowing a mouthful of coffee, "Don't lecture me, I know, I just...I know Tucker, too, and he'd use any excuse to pull us off this case."

She nodded and sipped her coffee. "Should we start there, then? At the Two-Seven?"

"We have to talk to VanBeuren, sooner or later," he said. "Might as well be sooner." He chugged down the last bit of his coffee and tossed the cup into the nearest trash can. "I didn't lie, by the way. Not really."

She looked at him, puzzled, and raised an eyebrow as she sipped her coffee. "To Tucker?"

"On the phone, with Kathy, before," he spat out, pausing between phrases. Shoving his hands in his grey pants pockets, he said, "I am going to be with you, tonight, and we are...going to be working." He smirked. "Just not in the way she thinks." He paused again and smiled. "I, uh, I got a surprise for you. But you can't have it just yet. It's gonna take a while."

"You know I hate surprises," she said, throwing her cup away as they passed by another trash can.

"Oh," he said, staring to climb the stairs to the Sixteenth Precinct. "You're going to love this one."

 _ **Peace and Love,**_

 _ **Jo**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"What the hell were the two of you thinking?" Cragen's voice boomed, echoing off the stucco walls in his office and carrying out, through the door, into the squad room.

"I'm not sure," Olivia began, her eyes fixed on the metal doorknob, "If I'm more relieved that it's not us this time, or more surprised that it's them."

Elliot chuckled, not looking up. He scrawled some notes in an open file and said, "Twenty bucks says it was all Cassidy's fault."

"Make it fifty," she said with a scoff. "Always raise the stakes on a sure thing." She laughed softly, and then reached for her coffee. She took a sip just as she absentmindedly gazed toward the front entrance of the room.

The sound of her choking cause Elliot's head to pop up and his eyes to widen. "You okay?" he asked, shooting out of his chair and leaping to her side. He patted her back hard. "What happened?"

She shook her head, still coughing into a balled fist, and used her other hand to point to the opened double doors.

Elliot turned his head and stiffened. He straightened up, smoothed out his tie, and looked down at Olivia again. "Are you all right?"

She nodded with one final cough, and cleared her throat. "Go," she spat, reaching over to his desk to grab the file.

Biting his lip, Elliot moved, however unwillingly, toward the blonde woman who had walked into the squad room. "Hey," he said dryly to his wife, folding his arms.

Kathy gave him a quizzical look as her head tilted. "Is there anyone else who can cover your shift for you tonight?" she asked. "The kids miss you."

Elliot sighed, one hand scrubbing across his forehead. "No," he told her. "It's my case, and..."

The conversation was broken up by more loud yelling, and a few well-chosen cuss words, from beyond Cragen's door.

"...clearly my boss isn't in the mood to entertain any requests for a night off." Elliot finished, inwardly laughing at the horror on Kathy's face. She was never privy to what happened at work, and she certainly had never experienced the wrath of Captain Cragen, until now. Her expression was amusing, in a way.

Kathy sighed sadly, resignation falling onto her like a heavy sac. She looked down for a moment, fingers pulling at the hem of her brown shirt. She kicked her heels against the tiles for a beat or two and then looked up at Elliot. "My parents are coming for dinner. They're staying the night. Elliot, I need you to..."

"Oh, so that's what this is," he interrupted disdainfully. "I can't leave my partner alone on this case just because you don't want your folks to know that we aren't exactly the Walton's." He scratched a spot behind his ear. "Tell them the truth, that I'm a cop, and I'm working, and if this case closes between now and the time they have to get on the train back to Rochester, I'll see them tomorrow."

"How's that going to look, huh?" she whispered angrily at him, almost seething. "You find a way to make an appearance at..."

"Kathy, cut it out," he said, interrupting her again. He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to her, dropping his voice. "The vic...victim...was a cop. A colleague, friend," he lied, "I can't go home until we find out what happened to her, who hurt her, and put him behind bars, where he belongs. If your parents can't understand how important that is..."

"Okay," she said with closed eyes, and it was clear she was now filled with a bit of regret and mild nausea. "Just...do what you have to do and come home." She sighed again and looked up at him, combing her long blonde hair back with her manicured fingernails. "The kids really do miss you."

"I miss them," he said. "I'll call them. Give them kisses for me," he said.

She shot him a harsh glare. "You should be there to do it yourself," she complained. But then she took a slow, deep breath. "But I know why you're not." She straightened up and unintentionally looked toward Olivia, who was still writing in the open folder. "She's still here, I see."

"She's not going anywhere," Elliot said to her. It came out more venomously than he'd intended. "You have to...accept that." He offered a nonchalant shrug. He knew she was expecting him to move closer, give her a kiss goodbye, but thankfully, Cragen's door crashed open, slamming into the wall behind it, and he shouted out two last names. "Shit," he said when one of them was his own, and he met Olivia on the way toward the office and red-faced captain without so much as a wave in Kathy's direction as she, too, left the room.

"You two," Cragen said with flaring nostrils, "Where were you last night at around, oh, eleven-thirty?"

Elliot looked at Olivia, and then noticed that Cassidy had gone pale. "At her place," he said, surprising himself with his honesty. "Finishing the paperwork on the Gentry case."

"Both of you," Cragen said, waving a finger between them, "You were there, together? For how long?"

Olivia suddenly felt her stomach drop. Did someone tell Cragen she'd been sleeping with Elliot? How the hell could anyone have known? "Yes," she whispered. "Until you called us down to the..."

"Where's the 'Five?" Cragen asked, cutting her off.

"On my desk," Elliot said, folding his arms. "What is this about? We in some kind of trouble for working overtime? Is grabbing a beer and Chinese takeout with my partner while we catch up on paperwork suddenly a crime?"

Cragen snorted. "No," he said, and then he turned to Cassidy and Munch. "So, now, I need the truth, from you, since your alibi is complete shit."

"Wait, I'm sorry, what?" Elliot asked, his brows knitting together.

Cragen took another breath. "These two numbnuts...Cassidy went AWOL last night, instead of watching Carter like he was supposed to, and when John showed up for his shift, Carter was gone! Now, he is nowhere to be found. Cassidy tried to tell me he was with Benson."

"Excuse me?" Elliot said, his jaw tight, his eyes narrow and taking on a red heat. Behind him, he felt Olivia's left hand on his lower back and he calmed slightly. He knew exactly where she was, at all times, and it was never with Cassidy. "She would never..."

"Oh, believe me, I know," Cragen interrupted. "She's smart. Knows how to keep her personal life out of work. I just wanted to see Cassidy's face when his load of bullshit excuse came crashing down. You two can go, and take Munch with you." He waited until Munch had reached the door before slamming it and resuming his tirade with Cassidy as the target.

"So he wasn't with you?" Munch asked, plopping into his chair behind his desk.

"Only in his dreams, John," Olivia joked, handing the file she'd been working with to Elliot. "Put this on your desk," she said through gritted teeth, rolling her eyes.

He chuckled and slipped it under a pile of papers. "We got anything else on VanBuren?"

Olivia bit her lip as she looked down at her watch and said, "Still waiting on the ME," she said, "But her sister is coming down here, bringing a few of her sisters things she said might help us out. Computer, datebook, PDA..."

"VanBuren?" Munch questioned. "As in Captain VanBuren, from the Two-Seven?"

Elliot nodded. "Her sister...is the vic in our current case."

Munch sat up a little straighter. "You got a suspect?"

"DNA tells us that she was with another cop. Officer Eric Copeland, but according to him, it was consensual. They hooked up at a bar, and she was alive when she walked away from him." She folded her arms and leaned against Elliot's desk.

Munch took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and shook his head. "I think, uh, our two cases have just become one." He looked at Elliot, and then at Olivia. "VanBuren was the beat cop who arrested Carter, when we nailed him on the Kensington rape. She was the cop he swore to get even with when he made bail. It's the whole reason we were watching his ass in the first place."

Olivia turned from Munch to Elliot. "Shit," she said. She took a slow breath and said, "Looks like you weren't lying to Kathy after all," she whispered. "We'll be working, tonight."

Elliot let out a low, slow groan. He had plans for the night, and honestly they didn't involve work. He chewed on his cheek for a moment as he thought, and when the idea hit him, he smirked wickedly.

"Uh-oh," she said, a smile of her own beginning to form. "What are you thinking?"

He looked up at her and said nothing. He didn't have to tell her, because she was going to find out, first hand. He took her hand, rolling her wrist toward him, using the need to tell the time as an excuse to touch her. "Almost five," he mumbled. "Tucker's going to be down here soon."

She pulled her hand away. "Well, at least now, we have something to tell him."

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the case slipped away, work faded into the background, and wordlessly, they told each other what they each needed to know.

Olivia opened her mouth, about to make a comment to bring them back to reality, when Cragen's office door swung open, again.

Three heads turned, staring, as Cassidy moped dejectedly back to his desk. He fell into his chair, not making eye contact with anyone.

Cragen cleared his throat. "Benson, Stabler..." he said, "You two are needed on Madison and 79th."

Olivia stood up and looked confused. "A little out of our jurisdiction, isn't it?"

Cragen didn't blink, didn't even begin to move, and said, "We got another vic, another cop. Just go."

Nothing more needed to be said. Elliot grabbed his keys off of his desk, looked at Olivia, who nodded at him, and with perfectly synchronized steps, they headed out into the hallway, hoping to catch a break in the case before something else ended up broken instead.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.  
**_

"Shit," she spat, grimacing as her back hit the wall, but she couldn't bring herself to complain. Not in the slightest.

His teeth found a tender spot on her neck; he bit down hard, feeling her pulse beat rapidly against his lips and tongue. His left hand pawed at the fabric of her already torn shirt, the aftermath of a near-violent confrontation with a perp an hour ago. It was a case that had gotten under their skin, forced them into an internal investigation with a man they both despised, and now, here they were, in the locker room at two-in-the-morning, blowing off steam the only way that seemed to prove successful.

"Fuck," he grumbled, her flesh still in his mouth. He moved slightly to his left and yanked hard on the thin fabric that had been wrapped around his knuckles. Her underwear was now mere shreds of cotton. He chuckled as he dropped the useless material to the floor and gave his hips one hard, powerful thrust, biting down even harder on her neck as he did it.

"Christ, Elliot," she half-moaned, half-growled, taking all of him in at once. She felt his pelvis kiss hers and knew that no man had ever been so deep, and never would after him. Because there would not be an "after him." She wouldn't survive an "after him." Her nails dragged up his back, leaving fire-red streaks in his skin. She heard him seethe, heard him moan her name, and the smirk that played at her lips was a wicked response. "Harder," she whispered, picking up her head just enough to meet his eyes as he stopped sucking on her neck.

He grinned at her, glanced down at the freshly-made purple and grey mark just below her ear that meant she would need to break out the scarves and turtle-necks for a while, and then eased out of her slowly. He found new grip on her, his strong hands and large palms braced her body against the wall as he rammed into her again, beginning a brutal pace. The sound of slapping skin, heavy breathing, muffled curses, and soft cries of two names filled the room.

"No one's here," he reminded her. He kissed her hard and tugged on her hair, earning a gasp from her. "You don't have to hold back."

She nipped at his lower lip, pulling it with her teeth, and chuckled. "Neither do you."

That was his cattle prod and his permission. He hiked her up higher on his body and bent his knees to gain more leverage and momentum. He loved that he could give her everything he had, and not only could she take it, she gave it all right back. He kissed her, drawing his tongue out and licked a long line down her neck to her right nipple.

She gasped and cursed as he sucked it into his mouth and knotted her hands together at the base of his back, her wrists slipping against his slick skin. "Elliot, fuck, yes," she breathed.

Her scent filled his lungs and he moaned her name as one of his hands shoved between their working bodies. He swiped his thumb over her clit twice, laughing when she cursed and shuddered against him. She shifted her weight and almost slipped out of his grip, causing him to move his hand again, back around her neck. He kissed her again and mumbled something against her lips, something he swore she repeated back to him.

She had, in fact, spoken those same sentiments, but not loud enough for him to be certain.

With another low, throaty growl, he moved his body even faster, harder, thrusting into her with a passionate fury that seemed to be dissolving what little guilt had collected in the back of his mind.

"Fuck, Elliot," she grunted again, her fingertips curling and excavating more of his skin. "Please," she pleaded, "Don't stop."

"Don't plan on it," he said through gritted teeth, working his hips like a power saw, his whole body beginning to tremble and burn with the need for release. He blinked once but then kept his eyes wide open. "Look at me," he commanded.

She rolled her head, feeling the small beads of sweat roll down her neck as she moved. Her blurry eyes fixed on his and she dropped her forehead. It pressed against his, their noses touched, their hot, panting breath mixed in the space between their lips.

He couldn't hold back anymore, he crashed his lips into hers, slammed her against the wall one last time, and drilled into her a few more delicious times before stilling, feeling her clench around him so tightly that he couldn't pull back, anyway.

Her voice rose in pitch as soft cries escaped. She quaked in his arms, her muscles flexing and cramping as her entire body set on fire. "Oh, my God," she whimpered, another orgasm rolling fast on the heels of the first.

He kissed her again, muffling his own feral grunt as he shot off, firing into her like a rogue cannon.

They stayed, still and panting, for what seemed like an eternity, feeling each other's heartbeat slow from thunderous drumming to a calm and steady tempo.

He kissed her slowly, deeply, as he let her slide off of him and onto her still shaking legs.

She gripped him for stability as she let out a happy, disbelieving laugh. "We're pretty fucked, you and I," she said to him. She sighed and then cleared her throat. "Wait till I can walk straight before you go home, huh?" she asked, not looking up at him.

He kissed her forehead and then her lips. "I am home," he told her gently. He began to lead her toward the showers and had just reached through the curtain, ready to turn the water on, when a shrill ring startled them.

She'd jumped and slipped on the tiles, landing with a chuckle in his arms. He kissed her again and then slowly moved toward the pile of discarded clothes in the corner. He knelt and searched for his phone.

"Stabler," he said, staring intently and hungrily at Olivia. He watched her comb her fingers through her dampened shoulder-length hair and he smiled. "Yeah, uh, I'll get her and be back..." he stopped abruptly and gave Olivia a cockeyed grin. "He hung up on me."

"Does this mean the shower is going to have to wait?" She took a few steps toward him and reached for the bra he was holding out to her.

As he watched her pull it on, he let out a slow breath and began to get dressed himself, remembering the last phone call he'd made to his wife, and the last words she'd said to him.

The shower wasn't the only thing that would simply have to wait.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"What the hell is your problem, huh?" he snarled at her, his voice nothing but a harsh, gravelly whisper.

She scoffed, a vile grin on her face and a fire hidden behind her dark eyes. "No problem," she said back, just as harshly. She bit the inside of her cheek and turned her face away from him and toward the window. She watched the blurred reds and golds go by, a heavy sigh escaping unpermitted.

"Bullshit," he hissed. "You've been treating me like shit all day, when you're not completely ignoring me, so either tell me what the fuck I did so I can fix it or stop being such a…"

"Your wife," she interrupted, whipping her head around to look at him again. Her eyes had reddened since the last time she looked his way, and she felt her nose begin to burn. She laughed in bitter jest, at herself, at what she had let herself become. "She called me this morning."

His stomach dropped like a lead balloon, crushing his lungs on the way. "What…what did she…what?"

"Yeah," she breathed again, a hard snort. "Told me that she wanted me to go with her this weekend to look at furniture, and since I'm a cop, I could tell her what kind of mattress to get so your back doesn't hurt, or some shit." She shook her head and once again averted her eyes from his. "What the fuck is that about?"

His heart beating faster than the last bullet he fired, he struggled to think of an answer. "She's trying to figure out if…" His words fell off of his tongue like hot lava, burning and leaving scorches in their wake. "Liv, she…I think she knows."

"Knows…about us?" she asked, knowing damn well that is exactly what he'd meant, but, God-damn-it, she needed a few more moments of blissful denial.

He bit his lip, hard, and nodded, closing his eyes and trying to breathe while turning the car into a parking lot. "About us," he affirmed. "She, uh, well, I guess she wants to see how deep this is, if it's just…"

"Your wife asked me to help her pick out a bed…one that you're going to be sharing with her…just to see how jealous I'd get?" she questioned, finding both absurdity and logic in it all. "What the fuck, Elliot?"

"Or maybe she's still completely in the dark, okay? But she is making an effort to spend time with you for a reason, and she never even wanted to shake hands with any of my other partners, so that's the only thing that…" he stopped. His face screwed up in something between disgust and hysteria. "I wouldn't be sharing the bed with her!"

She heaved another sigh and shook her head, letting it drop exhaustedly into her hands. "What the hell are we doing?"

He raised an eyebrow as he pushed the gear-shift into 'park' and hit the wheel lightly as the car jerked backward. "I thought it was obvious."

"I don't think we should…" she froze on the next word, feeling his hand grip her left wrist. She swallowed hard when she realized he was pulling her hand away from her face and bringing it to his lips. She lifted her head and stared with softened eyes as he kissed each knuckle and whispered forbidden words against the cold, thin skin of her hand. "We are," he told her, "Going to figure this out, and we are going to be amazing."

She smiled at him, the hopeful sincerity in his eyes tugged just enough at her heartstrings to earn it. "I don't believe you," she said with a shrug. 

"Last night," he started, "Before we, uh…"

"Fucked in the locker room?" she suggested bluntly.

He rolled his eyes. "It wasn't like that."

"That's exactly what it was," she declared. "What were you saying?"

He exhaled sharply, the sting of her words seeping deeper into him. "I called Kathy. I was going to tell her, but I…I couldn't. Not over the phone. Not when my kids were in the house, asleep. I think she knew what I was trying to say…she got so…complacent, like she was waiting to hear it, but I just…couldn't." He looked into Olivia's eyes, something burning beneath his gaze. "I will, though. You know I will."

"I don't know that," she said, pulling her hand from his. "But it doesn't really matter. I'm in this, too far to really give a shit if you do or not, so you can have your cake and eat it at the same time, I'm not…"

"I don't…that's not…damn it, Liv," he sputtered. "Stop thinking this is some fucking affair!"

"It is!" she yelled back, wide-eyed, and then let out a laugh. "That's exactly what it is." She leaned into him, kissed the corner of his mouth, and whispered, "Fucking hot, though, isn't it?" She pulled back, winked at him, and got out of the car, heading without him toward the taped-off apartment building a few feet away.

He cursed under his breath and followed suit, slamming the car door behind him as he sprinted to catch up to her. "More than that," he mumbled under his breath once he reached her side. "You know it."

She heard him, but she brushed it off in favor of her professional demeanor, raising her badge to the uniformed man on the other side of the tape. "Who found her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as the older cop lifted the yellow plastic for her.

"Plumber," the cop said, jutting a thumb in the direction of another uniformed officer standing near a very harrowed looking man with a toolbox. "Said he got a complaint about clogged drains in the ground floor showers. Came out to check the pipelines, and there she was."

"Thanks," she said, nodding, and this time, she waited for Elliot before moving toward the man. "Excuse me," she said, addressing both the plumber and the cop talking to him. "Detective Benson, Special Victims. This is Detective Stabler." She looked at the uniformed officer. "We'll take it from here," she said.

The cop walked away, leaving Olivia and Elliot with the plumber. Elliot was the first to speak. "What's your name, pal?"

The plumber held out a hand and shook Elliot's when offered. "Vic Mancuso," he said. "Mancuso Plumbing."

Elliot nodded. "Okay, Vic, did you move the body at all when you got here?" he asked, looking past the man toward the medical examiner and victim.

"No, are you nuts? I lived in this city long enough to know that'll get me a few nights in lockup. Obstruction or tampering or whatever," the plumber said, his thick city accent making him sound more like a mafia hit-man than a plumber.

"A simple 'no' would've been fine," Olivia said, rolling her eyes. "Did you touch her at all?"

"I ain't into necrophilia, Lady," he said with a grimace. "And I didn't need to check for no pulse, living broads ain't that shade of purple."

Elliot stifled a laugh. "Okay, thanks, uh, stick around, okay? We'll have a few more questions for you."

Manccuso folded his arms and made an irritated noise. "Whatever, look, it's Sunday, I get time-and-a-half anyway, so the longer I'm out here, the better."

Olivia and Elliot shared a small laugh and headed toward the medical examiner. "What a classy guy," Elliot joked. "Should I feel threatened? You gonna leave me for him?"

"Oh, yeah," Olivia teased. "Nothing gets me hotter than bald spots and beer bellies." She rolled her eyes again, laughing with him, and said, "Seriously, though, I know…um…that it's more. I'm just…"

"I know," he said, and he gave her a wink before stepping up behind Doctor Warner. "Anything interesting, Doc?"

Melinda Warner craned her neck toward the pair of detectives and looked at Olivia. "Yes. Honey."

Olivia narrowed her eyes. "Okay, what, Darling?" she joked.

"No, I mean, she's covered in honey," Warner said, getting to her feet. She held up a small plastic container with a good amount of a viscous amber substance in it. "It actually preserved the evidence, keeping the muck and mud from disturbing any of it."

"You make out cause-of-death?" Elliot asked, folding his arms.

Melinda pointed a gloved finger at the victim's neck. "Rope," she said. "Heavy, braided. I pulled a few fibers out of the wound. I'll have someone in the lab run it, but I guarantee it's commercial grade. Very common." She held up a small, plastic baggie, too. "Found this on her wrist. May give you a solid place to start."

Olivia reached out a hand and took the sealed bag, examining it closely. The pink, paper wristband was crinkled and torn, and coated with a sticky layer of honey, but she could tell what it was. "Nick Myers concert," she said, flattening the plastic between her fingers. "VIP section."

"That was last night. Maureen wanted tickets," Elliot said, taking the bag from her. "Nosebleed seats were almost three-hundred-dollars, so this must have been at least a grand."

"Fourteen-hundred," she said almost robotically. She saw him giving her a quizzical look. "Like you said," she shrugged, "Maureen wanted tickets."

He smiled at her, shaking his head in disbelief. She'd actually priced tickets for a concert his daughter wanted to go to, without hesitation. He dangled the bag between his index and middle fingers, holding it out to her. As she took it back, he said, "So we'll finish dealing with the plumber and then head over to The Garden ," he said. "There's another show tonight. That wristband got her backstage, so someone must have seen her."

She took a deep breath and looked down at the VIP wristband. "She had a seat most girls her age would kill for." She looked up and pressed her lips together before saying, "Maybe one of them did." She turned and nodded her thanks toward the medical examiner, took a few steps back toward the yellow tape, and then stopped in her tracks. "Are you going to ask me?"

He was taken aback for a moment, but then knew, and he smiled. "I don't have to ask," he said. "I know you, Liv. You'd rather get your teeth drilled than spend five minutes alone with Kathy. What did you tell her?"

"I told her I was spending the weekend upstate with my boyfriend," she said, bending under the tape. She got the attention of the plumber and crooked her finger at him. "She let out this weird noise, like an excited squirrel."

He leaned over and lowered his voice. "She doesn't know it's me, then," he decided, and then straightened up. He looked at the plumber, seeing the sun glare off of the man's bald head. He chuckled as he remembered what Olivia had said earlier, and after composing himself, he said, "Mister Mancuso, do you mind coming down to the station with us? It won't take too long, but we need to clear a few things up before we let you out of our sight."

Vic Mancuso laughed. "Time-and-a-half," he said again. "Keep me all night, if yous want." The man let out another laugh, one that made his gut shake.

Olivia shuddered as he passed by her, not thrilled about spending any more time with him than necessary. She let Elliot lead the way to the car, her mind wandering to their weekend plans. She knew what she had told Kathy, but she couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, Elliot had told her.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"How much longer are we..."

Munch was cut off abruptly by Cragen's booming voice. "These are teenagers! Somebody's children! Your plans are put on hold until we get justice for them, for their families, so stop complaining and get back to work! I want this bastard found, tonight!" He ran toward his office, through the heavy door, and slammed it so hard the wall shook and three framed photos crashed to the tiled ground.

A dead silence filled the room, no one moved, no one even blinked. They were afraid to breathe.

Olivia boldly broke the silence as she turned toward Elliot. "I guess, uh, my romantic weekend in the mountains is off," she said, biting her lip.

"Camping with my old Marine buddies has to wait, too," he said, loud enough for others to hear, and solely for their benefit. His eyes were pained, though, as he tried to convey his regret to Olivia, silently telling her that he would much rather be with her.

She looked around, watched a few other officers begin to clean up the broken glass and chipped wood, and then lowered her voice and leaned a bit closer to Elliot. "Is that what you told Kathy you were doing?"

He smirked at her, winked, and smoothed out his tie. He pushed her aside gently and cleared his throat. "So, uh, Liv and I talked to the stage crew and backup dancers down at Madison Square Garden. Couple people remember seeing our vics backstage, with a guy named Kevin Curtis. He's one of Myers's dancers. He didn't show up at call today, though, and no one knows where he is."

Olivia piggybacked off of his words. "We already have a BOLO out, and and APB on his car. Until we get any hits, we need to look at what else these girls had in common, besides bad taste in music."

Brian Cassidy chuckled, and then leaned back in his swiveling leather chair. "I had the displeasure of talking to Nick Myers, who needs a belt and a haircut, by the way. He said he, quote, 'Tapped a hundred bitches last night both those two ain't one of 'em,' end quote. He sounds like a real rogue scholar."

"Rhodes," Olivia muttered, correcting him out of sheer reflex. "It's an image. His real name is Eugene and before he got a record deal, he was a national chess champion."

Brian tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Well, his image sucks," he hissed. He rolled his eyes and looped his hands behind his head. "This is bullshit. Our third high-profile case in a row."

Munch scoffed. "You had a couple days of after that stunt you pulled with Carter," he said bitterly. "Where the hell were you, anyway? You never told me the truth."

"Don't worry about it," Cassidy said gruffly. "I, uh, obviously made a mistake, so...what's our next move?"

Before anyone could make any suggestions, Cragen's door opened again. He seemed calmer as he walked into the middle of the squad room and looked sheepishly at his detectives. "I got a phone call," he said, "Benson. Stabler. You two. Take it." He held out a slip of paper, pink with torn edges.

Elliot took it, read it, and looked back at his captain with stunned eyes. "Another one?" He turned his head toward Olivia and gave her a disbelieving shrug. "What the hell happened at this concert?"

"We should go back to The Garden," she said, taking the paper from his outstretched hand. "They're filming the concert for a DVD and prime-time special, both nights, we need to..."

"Like I said," Cragen interrupted as he dragged a weary hand over his face, "You two just...take it." He licked his lips, crossed his arms, and glumly walked back into his office, not glancing over his shoulder once.

Elliot watched him go, confused, and he raised one eyebrow as he grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. He shot Olivia another glance and jutted his chin toward the door, hoping to end the hunt for a killer, end the night, and start what should have been a weekend that would've changed everything.

It was just a few hours later; the BOLO had paid off and a few officers had brought in the missing dancer. Elliot and Olivia had thrown down the gauntlet in interrogation, earning a confession, not to any of the murders, but to not stopping them when he could. He gave them the name of the person he'd been protecting, and Cassidy and Munch immediately ventured out to bring him in, and hopefully put him in the cage where he belonged. Thousands of fans would be devastated, but Elliot had never been more relieved; he was thankful that he couldn't get his daughter such overpriced tickets.

"Go," Cragen said, almost as soon as Olivia and Elliot came out of the interrogation room.

The two detectives stared at him, perplexed.

"Did I stutter?" Cragen asked, raising his brows. "You both had plans this weekend, right?" He watched the pair slowly nod, each taking time in their answer. "Well, there's still time to make the most of it. Go. Before I change my mind."

Olivia couldn't help herself. She had to double-check. "We still have to…"

"Paperwork will be there Monday," Cragen interrupted. "I've overheard conversations, and I know how much time and effort it takes to make plans like yours. Especially involving a doctor and a bunch of career marines, so just…go."

They eyed each other for a moment, hiding impish grins and widened eyes, and they nodded their thanks, once again, at their captain. They ran out of the viewing room before he could say goodbye, and the frenzy to grab bags and keys and coats made them nothing more than a blur of hazy color.

They sped down the hallway, each hitting the elevator buttons, but deciding together that the stairs would be faster. They practically pushed each other out of the way and laughing like schoolmates escaping detention.

It became a game of cat and mouse, one would outrun the other and then turn around and tease, goad, until they were outrun themselves. Their laughter filled the stairwells, carrying upward through vents and into rooms where, they imagined, laughter was strictly forbidden.

Panting and red-faced, they burst through the last exit, the precinct's side doors, and they chuckled as they leaned against the brick façade, the chilly night air making every hot breath visible. He straightened up and leaned into her. "Doctor?" he questioned, his parted lips only a millimeter away from hers.

She felt his heated breath against her mouth, she saw him moving closer to her as she nodded, and when he kissed her, her hands flew to the back of his head. She clutched patches of his short hair and her body arched against his. She leaned up fully into his kiss, into his love, as if her very existence depended upon it.

It did.

She pulled away, needing to breathe, and keeping her eyes closed, she smiled and rested her forehead against his. "Yeah, you, uh, you heal me. You're a doctor."

"Well, with the right tools and a daily dose of the right medicine," he teased, kissing her lips again, quickly. "You ready to get out of here?"

She looked around, seeing nothing but the dead end of the back alley on one side and the blurry lights of passing traffic on the other. She looked back at Elliot and shook her head, pulling him closer to her and kissing him again. This time, there was fire, desperation.

He wasted no time, need and want coursing through his veins. He tugged at the waistband of her slacks, working them around her hips quickly.

She moaned as she kissed him, her own hands fumbling with his belt. She felt his hands, chilly and calloused, their roughness smoothing over her skin as he slid them up her shirt and over the expanse of her back. She shivered at the touch, icy shivers running down her spine in the same path his fingers had traveled.

He chuckled, feeling her quiver in his arms, and he held his breath when he felt the pop and release of the button and zip of his slacks. He gasped when her fingers wrapped around his girth, pulling him up and over the elastic of his boxer-briefs and cotton pants. "Are we really…"

"Shh," she quieted, kissing him harder, with more fervor. Her fingers danced up and down his shaft, slowly enticing and torturing him, knowing his impatience was reaching a pivotal point.

He growled into her mouth, his tongue swiped over her teeth and one of hands traveled lower and gripped her hip. He held her still as he moved his hips and gave one powerful thrust, sheathing himself inside of her and catching her cry in his kiss.

She was stunned into stillness, waiting for him to move. She nipped at his lower lip and moaned loudly when she felt him pull out and move slightly to his left.

He kissed her deeply, madly, as he thrust again, setting his pace and power. "Holy…God…Liv," he panted, his words escaping in fiery gasps, causing white clouds with each burst of heated breath.

She shook her head as she kissed him again, telling him not to talk. She couldn't believe it, either, and part of her didn't want to realize it all. What had she become? He was married, with children, her partner. She was an expert at failed relationships and one-night-stands, and now, here she was, up against the side of the Sixteenth Precinct, fucking him for all her was worth, before taking a trip upstate with him which in itself meant she was fully committed.

"Liv," he breathed again, interrupting her troubled thoughts. He thrust his hips a bit harder, making her moan his name in a way no one ever had, no one but her. "Fuck, Liv, baby," his words came, punctuated by eager pounds of his hips and sweet kisses.

She felt her body begin to burn, her thighs trembled as tension rose from the tips of her toes. "Oh, my God," she cried as she clenched, tightening around him so completely he couldn't pull out.

"God damn, baby," he seethed, trying as hard as he could to thrust again. He fought against her tightness one last time, power-driving through it and into her. He slammed his hips hard against hers, knowing he'd found the perfect spot. He felt her come undone completely as he caught her quavering cries in his mouth.

She trembled in his arms, her hands clutching to his shoulder blades as her body clung to his. "Oh, my God, Elliot," she whispered, the only actual words she could manage.

He nodded in agreement, his lips finding her neck and peppering it with light kisses. He slowly pulled out of her, letting her still-shaking limbs hit the ground. He was silent as he worked to straighten out her clothes and he couldn't help but smile when she did the same for him.

When their eyes finally met, they shared a smile, another kiss, and a pure and true realization.

"So, now, uh, are you ready to get out of here?" he asked again, grinning, the color in his cheeks fading from bright red to its normal shade.

She took a deep breath, stifling the urge to run that built in her stomach, and she nodded.

He took her hand and led her out into the street-lamp lit space beyond the alley, the bright city lights illuminating her face, her cheeks still rosy from their tryst and the chilly air. He brushed a curl of short, dark hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. "When we get there," he said, "You'll finally get that surprise I've been promising you.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

She wasn't entirely sure how many times he had called her name, but as she snapped out of her daze upon hearing it being practically yelled at her, she knew it must have been more than a few. "Huh? She intoned, sending a mild glance in his direction.

This wasn't the first time she'd gone temporarily deaf, it's merely the first time she hadn't been a naked, sweaty mess of limbs wrapped around Elliot. "Sorry," she mumbled. "A lot on my mind."

Cragen raised on eyebrow. "I'll bet," he said. "As I was saying, the commissioner is personally coming down here to do this, so the two of you…"

"Do what?" she interrupted, afraid now. The commissioner never paid personal visits unless someone was in an immeasurable amount of trouble.

"Liv," Elliot chuckled, shaking his head, "We, uh, we're being promoted. Sort of," he told her, his brows knitted and twisted. He saw the confusion drawn like a question mark on her face. "Because of the last case we…our closer percentages are…you really weren't listening?"

She bit her lip and shook her head. "Guess not," she shrugged. The only thing she'd been hearing, in her own head, over and over, were the words that had come out of Elliot's mouth the night before, as he gently tugged the thin, flimsy gold ring off of his finger and replaced it with one that used to belong to is father. The short sentence, the two very small words that held more weight than words had any right to hold. _"It's over."_

Cragen gave a sour expression as Olivia sheepishly turned her attention back toward him. "Congratulations," he said. "Detective, Second Grade," he spat, repeating himself in a much less proud and fatherly manner than he had done the first time he told her, and was obviously ignored. "Elliot's moving up to first."

Olivia blinked. "Wow. Okay, um. Wow." She looked at Elliot and smiled slightly. "You get a raise?"

"We both do," he said with a wink. And then his face fell and he heaved a sigh that seemed to sink to his very soul. "Which is good, because, you know, lawyers, and alimony." He licked his lips. What came out his mouth then was a low, droning, rapid-fire litany of the thoughts that had been filtering through his own head for hours. "There's no way she walks away without alimony. And child support, unless there's a judge in this country that will find some asinine reason to entertain my bid for custody. Hell, this job, my hours, my history of mental instability and temper tantrums, I mean, fuck, I wouldn't give me my kids."

"Hey," Cassidy interjected, forehead crinkled in worry as he rested one hand on Elliot's shoulder. "You cutting the rope with Kathy, man?"

With his lip once again gnashed between his teeth, he nodded. "No use in holding onto something that…it doesn't matter, point is, we're both going to be happier." He let himself glance at Olivia, and his smile grew ever-so slightly. "Much happier."

"Commissioner Morris!" Cassidy exclaimed, suddenly standing upright and saluting.

Lyle Morris, the standing commissioner of the NYPD, slipped off his hat and tucked it under his arm, rolling his eyes. "I'm not amused, Cassidy. Knock it off."

Cassidy relaxed and cleared his throat. "Sorry. Um, Sir."

Commissioner Morris shook his head again, but then brightened as he looked down at the pair of desks to his left. "Detectives Stabler and Benson," he began. "Just who I'm here to see. Now, I knew I'd have the honor of saying this sooner or later, but so soon for you, Detective Benson, is truly worthy of note. Of course, it's no change in title, but on paper, and in terms of salary and internal ranking…" he made a sly face and winked at Elliot. He pulled two small, black, boxes out of his uniform pocket, handing one to Elliot as he said, "It is a privilege to declare you, Elliot Stabler, Detective First Grade, an elite designation, marking you as one of the most experienced, dedicated, and may I say, indispensible detectives in the department." He handed the other box to Olivia and bowed is head respectfully. "Our newly designated Detective Second Grade, Olivia Benson is hot on your heels," he added with a wink.

"Thank you, Sir," Elliot said, flipping open the hinged box. He smiled at the sight of his shiny new badge, his number clearly carved and raised, a sharp change from the warn and almost illegible one at his hip. He looked up to watch Olivia open her box. His heart burst and melted into a gooey puddle as he watched her eyes light up, fill with something between disbelief and pride, and he felt his stomach churn with pure lust as he saw her tongue dart out coyly and lick the tension out of her uneasy smile. "Congrats, Liv," he said, attempting, in vain, to hide the deep desire and sounds of seduction in his voice.

She popped her head up at him. "You two," she said. "This, uh, this calls for celebrat…" she stopped. "Unless, um, you don't…you won't feel much like celebrating, I guess. Not tonight. Not…not now."

"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "This is only adding to the list of things we need to celebrate, tonight." He cleared his throat, feeling eyes on him, practically imagining the smirks growing on the faces of Cassidy and Munch. "All of us," he said, covering up his slight slip. "Tonight, Kavenaugh's, drinks are on me."

Munch nodded. "I'll definitely be there." He smiled and folded his arms. "This is like watching my kids get their diplomas."

There was a small round of laughter and the detectives bid a polite farewell to Commissioner Morris, who shook all of their hands, gave Cassidy one more annoyed look as the green detective saluted again, and waved his way out of the squad room.

Olivia held Elliot's warm gaze as she unclipped her old badge from her right side and replaces it with her new, slightly rounder, slightly more golden one. She watched him do the same and for a brief moment, they held the old badges in open palms.

"Well, uh," Elliot said, tossing his up about an inch and catching it, twice. "Tradition." He held his badge out to Olivia.

She smiled, tilting her head slightly. She took his old badge and handed him hers. "What tradition is this, exactly?" she asked, the barest air of confusion in her voice.

He slipped her old badge into his jacket pocket, cleared his throat again, and said, "Ours."

That one, single word, slapped the smile off of Olivia's face, leaving a streak of shock in its place. Her eyes widened a bit, hopefully and lovingly, and she sat up a little straighter. "El," she whispered.

Cragen knew what was happening, and though he knew he could do nothing to stop it, he could do everything in his power to control it. At least, while at the One-Six. "While I am proud of the two of you," he said, intentionally keeping Olivia from saying anything else, "We do have work to do. You two, take your shiny, new badges down to Freddy's Diner."

Elliot raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, hoping to ease the tension and play the part of the nonchalant detective. "Bit early for burgers, no?"

Cragen twisted his lips, suppressing a laugh and trying his damndest to come off as threatening. "Not too early for a body, though, huh?" He held out a small, torn piece of pink paper and waited.

All joviality faded from Elliot's face as he leaned forward again, started to stand. He took the paper and shook his head. "Damn."

Cragen nodded. "I know. Always the worst days when it's a child."

"Well," Olivia sighed, standing and grabbing her coat, "At least our morning was pretty amazing." She started to follow Elliot.

"Uh, Olivia, a minute, please?" Cragen called, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Olivia shot Elliot a concerned look. "I'll meet you in the car."

Elliot nodded, though the worry was clear in his eyes. He slapped the door frame as he left, taking his time as he headed down the hall.

"What's up, Cap?" Olivia asked, stepping up to Cragen.

Cragen's voice was barely a whisper, and he looked around before speaking. "Something you need to tell me? Maybe about Elliot?"

Olivia looked down at her feet, but assumed she knew what Cragen meant. She raised her eyes to meet his again. "Kathy kicked him out last night." Not a lie, yet not the whole truth, and it was believable. It had happened enough.

"Yeah," he said, "It's Thursday," he scoffed, dismissing it as an ordinary occurrance. "You know what I mean, Olivia. You have to stop it, now. This is only going to end, badly, you have no idea what you're doing and I can't help either of you if this…"

"Pardon me, Captain," Olivia said, cutting him off and holding up a hand. She felt the knots forming in her stomach and her throat, but she kept her full composure as she took a breath and said, "I know exactly what I'm doing. Going to a crime scene, with my partner, who, up until last night, was married. Still is. Married. My married partner. Captain, those are two words that send up a pretty strong flare of 'hell no.' So whatever you think is…"

"Wait, you two aren't…the badge thing…the way you looked at each other," Cragen said, still whisper-quiet. "I'm not blind, Olivia. I'm a damn good cop, and I know what I saw."

Olivia smirked almost wickedly at him, which made her look angry, although in reality, it was deceptive. "Sometimes, Captain, even damn good cops are wrong." She shook her head and stomped her way out of the squad room. "Fuck," she said under her breath as she pushed the stairwell door open. She ran down the cement steps, taking them two-at-a-time, shaking like a leaf.

They needed to be more careful, they needed to get their stories straight, and now, more than ever, they needed to be ready to face the consequences of walking so boldly into the fire.

They had come too close to getting burned.

 ** _Glad to be back to regular updates! Peace and Love._**

 ** _Jo_**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

He'd finally made his way back from the bathroom, his shoes sticking to the beer-coated floor with every step. He took the chance, thanks to the dimly lit and smoke-filled fog, and wrapped an arm around her. "Hey," he whispered.

His breath was hot against her neck; it made every tiny hair stand on edge, sent shivers up her spine and waves of fire into other, lower, parts of her body. With a low moan and a shudder, she turned her head just slightly, eying him over her shoulder. "Hey, yourself," she said flirtatiously.

He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, reminding himself that he was surrounded by people he worked with. "Shit," he hissed, tugging on his suddenly tight pants. "I just, uh, I wanted to tell you to slow down. You're knocking back more than a few, here."

She scoffed at him and then took another shot, slamming the squat glass down on the bar, and then rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand. She licked her lips as she turned to fully face him. "You gonna arrest me?" she said, moving her leg slowly toward the spot between his. Her knee brushed upward, barely sliding against his hardening bulge. "Detective?"

"Fuck," he spat, pushing her leg down and backing up a bit. "Christ, Liv, Munch and Cassidy are four feet away, Cragen could be here any…"

"Please," she dismissed, rolling her eyes and turning away from him. She raised a finger toward the bartender, asking for another shot. "He isn't coming."

Elliot tugged down his tie, smoothed back his hair, and slid onto the stool next to Olivia. He looked around cautiously before slipping his hand out of view and resting it over her thigh, his fingertips slightly grazing her tenderest flesh. He took a hard gulp, feeling the heat radiating from her. "You're not okay," he said, his voice low. He moved his fingers almost painfully slow, inching them closer to her clothed core. "Tell me what's wrong."

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt the tips of his fingers brush against her, a light gasp escaping. She opened her eyes to see his staring back, dark and intimidating, as if daring her to refuse him. "We need to…" she paused, as if suddenly hearing his words from before, and she paled. She grabbed his hand and moved it back up, toward her knee, and linked their fingers together. "Cragen said something…before we left for the diner this morning. I think he…well, he thinks he saw…"

"Is that what's got you all hot and bothered?" he asked, a smug grin on his face. He winked at her. "Besides me, of course," he added with a cocky nod of his head. "Yeah, uh, he asked me. I told him he wa way off, but, uh, I did say that I would be spending a couple nights on your couch. He made some wisecrack about needing to pay you rent, for all the times I've stayed with you."

She had to laugh, though it was more bitterly pitiful than humorous. "Yeah, it would help," she quipped. Her eyes darted toward the bar as she heard the drop of a fresh glass. Just as she swung it back, Munch and Cassidy appeared at her side, their bickering garnering her attention. "Lover's quarrel?" she teased, turning her head up at them.

"Munch is a sore loser," Cassidy snapped, plopping into the nearest stool.

Munch stared at the younger detective over the rims of his glasses. "I didn't lose! You scratched! You sunk the eight ball, and then threw a tantrum and tossed all the other balls into the pockets!"

"That's like committing every sin the billiard handbook, man," Elliot chuckled, pulling Olivia slightly off her stool, closer to him.

"Whatever," Cassidy huffed, waving a hand at him. He looked up and signaled the bartender, silently asking for two drinks. He turned with a smirk, a salacious comment about Olivia's pants on the tip of his tongue, but he faltered seeing how close she was to Elliot. "You two look cozy."

Elliot's grin grew slightly malicious; the joy he found in making Cassidy jealous almost came close the joy he found with Olivia in his arms. "Chilly in here," he said with a shrug. "That's all." He sat up a bit straighter. "Now that we're off the clock, you want to explain why you used Liv as an alibi for almost throwing your career down the toilet?"

Cassidy balked, clearing his throat a bit, and then he looked toward the bartender. "Hey, man! How long does it take to pour a couple-a beers?"

"Answer the question," Munch said. "I think I deserve to know why you hung me out to dry like that."

Cassidy took a breath and looked at his partner, and then at Elliot, and then finally at Olivia. "First, uh, Olivia, I'm sorry I dragged you into it, I honestly thought…well, I thought Cragen would buy it off the bat. I mean, is it that hard to believe? I got everything it takes to get a girl like you, Benson. Good job, good looks, sense of humor, so I thought…I mean why is it so fucking hard to believe?"

Elliot clenched his fists, and then, when Olivia cupped her hand over his, he fired a heated look at her.

She shook her head at him and smoothed her hand up and down his leg, trying to calm him. She whipped back to face Cassidy. "I think the people I work with know me better than that, Cassidy, can you please just get to the damn point?"

Brian eyed her for a moment, looked her up and down, swallowed hard, and said, "I got a call. Someone…someone I trust. Told me that Carter wasn't even in the building, gave me an address, and I thought that…"

"You thought that you'd get the glory by nailing the bastard by yourself," a grumpy voice behind the group finished. "And when you showed up and realized you got punked, you thought, 'Hey, I'll just say I was with the only detective in the unit who wouldn't dare do something so stupid and pray my boss believes me?"

Cassidy turned, his face forming a fake, placating smile. "Hey, Captain," he said, nodding.

Cragen did not look amused. He didn't even crack a smile. "I'm not here to join your little party, here," he looked at Elliot and Olivia, curiously scrutinizing their perfectly measured distance. Too close to be merely colleagues, too far away to be intimate. "I need you two back at the station. Two bodies in the park, one older male, but a teenage girl…same MO as our girl this morning, so Homicide kicked it up to us." He gave them each a long look. "Hit the can, sober up, and get back to work."

"Yeah, okay, Cap," Olivia said, sliding off her stool. She waited until Elliot stood beside her before making any move to walk toward the bathrooms. She really had thrown back too many shots too fast.

Elliot followed close behind her, and when they were out of view, he pulled her around the corner, into a dark recessed hallway. Without warning, without a sound, he kissed her, hard, and worked one hand into the waistband of her black slacks. "You're a tease," he whispered. "A goddamn fucking tease." He wriggled his fingers, working them further into her pants, finally touching the hot, wet, skin he'd been craving.

His name was a gasp on her tongue, her eyes opened wider as her head flew back into the wall with a thud. "Christ, Elliot," she moaned. Her eyes rolling now, she rocked her hips, eager to take his fingers inside of her.

He chuckled from low in his chest as he gave her what she so clearly wanted. Pushing two fingers into her, he crooked them and twisted them, and his lips slammed over hers to catch her cries.

Her hands moved fast, toward his belt, knowing he needed to relieve tension and frustration as much as she did, if not moreso after Cassidy's mindless ranting. "Shouldn't be doing this," she mumbled against his lips. And she meant it. They shouldn't be having an affair, and they certainly shouldn't be acting on impulse against the wall of a dark, dingy pub just before heading to work. But they were. God, they were. "Elliot," her voice whispered into his opened mouth, the word falling through his parted lips like iced water on a sweltering day.

"God, Liv, baby," he groaned, thrusting into her hand as she stroked and tugged him. "Not…fuck," he babbled. "Didn't think about this. Shit," he panted, and he worked to get her pants around her waist before it was too late. The last ting he needed was a stained suit; Cragen was already hotwired to write him up.

She laughed in surprise when he hoisted her up, but it became a pleasurably pained sigh when he impaled her and began to hit into her with more force. "God, damn, Elliot!"

"Shh," he silenced, and he kissed her to drive his point home, thrusting faster. "Need this." He moaned her name again and nuzzled her gently. "Need you. Always."

Her heart gave a sharp thump and her hands slipped from around his neck to his elbows, her fingers trailing along his arms to find his hands. A rough and spontaneous fuck in the bar, needed to sober up and right themselves, had become a sweet surrender, a tender and loving tryst.

He slowed just before he exploded, making each of his final thrusts powerful, hitting her pelvis with his. "Close," he breathed against her lips. "So close."

She nodded, leaned into him, and nipped his lower lip before kissing him hard. She squeezed his hands, her body tightened and burned, and her spine tingled.

He felt her clamp around him, felt her pulse and quake, and it was his undoing. He shot into her, whimpering into her mouth and freezing where he stood, unable to will his body to move and her body not allowing him to, anyway. Slowly, he kissed her and pulled his hands away from hers. He smoothed his hands up her goose-pimpled arms, and then dragged his fingers through her hair. "I love you," he whispered.

She nodded, her damp forehead swiping against his. "I love you, too," she said, too fast for it to be easily understood, not fast enough to be meaningless. She was the first to move, adjusting her clothes and straightening her posture. She moaned as she shifted, feeling the remnants of what had just transpired trickling down the still-hot skin of her thighs. She kissed his cheek and whispered, "We have to go."

He nodded, kissing her back quickly. He watched her move and turn away, but his cool voice stopped her. "Hey. Liv?"

She turned, one brow raised.

"Tell me…tell me he's wrong," he said, though he was still looking at the wall.

"What?" she asked, confused.

Elliot took a breath. "Cassidy. Tell me he…no matter what he does…that you…"

"Jesus," she interrupted, huffing and shaking her head in disbelief. "Is that what this was? You were jealous, and you, what, needed to lay your claim on me?"

He turned to her, his eyes red and his face dour with sincerest severity. "Liv?"

His demeanor now took her by surprise. "El," she whispered. "Oh, Elliot, no. Okay? I have never, and will never, be attracted, in any way, to Brian Cassidy." She tried to smile at him. "In fact, I, uh, I think I'm pretty much out of the game. Even if…when…if…this," she waved a hand between herself and Elliot, "This ends…I'm done. You've ruined me for every other man on the planet."

He smiled back at her. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Completely," she affirmed. "Now, we really have to go, before Cragen starts suspecting things, again."

He walked with her, through the bar, out the doors, into the night. He was trying to get his head back into work, into professionalism, but now, the only thing on his mind was the need to convince her that 'this' was not ending, not any time soon. Not ever, if he had his way.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled slyly to himself.

He knew exactly how to start.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"No, no, uh, thanks. We'll handle it from here. Yeah. Bye," he sighed and hung up the phone, plopped exhaustedly into his chair, and rubbed both of his tired eyes with one, large hand.

From across the joined desks, she stared at him, half-unconsciously, licking her lips as the thought of how those thick fingers would feel if they were rubbing something else. She jerked herself to attention, shaking off the brief fantasy, and forced her voice to sound as professional as it was weak. "What did he say?"

"Same thing he always says," he answered with a gravelly growl. "They don't have the manpower, he can't loan anyone out." He let his head fall back and drew a heavy palm over his mouth to catch his yawn. "Fucking Briscoe, man. All the favors we do for them, they can't give us one guy for one night."

She yawned, then, too, and shook her head. "Well, I guess we'll either have to split up, or trust the rookies to handle things in-house while we're gone."

"Split up," a voice spoke from the back doorway. "I like the sound of that."

Elliot's head popped up as Olivia's turned around, and they wore almost matching expressions. "Kathy," he said, spitting out the name as though it was laced with mace. "What's the matter? The kids? Are the kids..."

"The kids are fine," she said, walking toward him. "They're at my parents' house. I thought...well, I thought it would be late enough that we...maybe we could talk. You two are splitting up?"

The hopefulness in her question made Olivia's stomach churn, but she backed up and rose from her seat, folded her arms, and said, "Not a snowball's chance in Hell, Kathy. Just a little short-staffed tonight, and we have to figure out how to..."

"I see," Kathy interrupted. She didn't even look at Olivia, and she smiled more broadly at Elliot. "So can you give me a few minutes, here, Elliot? I just...I'm not ready to give up on this marriage. We have problems, sure, but what couple doesn't?"

He rubbed a hand down his face, frustrated and tired, and shook his head as he cleared his throat. "Now isn't a good time. You should have called first, we have to go and..."

"So I'll wait," Kathy said, her voice breaking slightly. "I'll wait. Home. I'll be up, and the kids won't be home, we can really...talk." She reached out a hand and took hold of one of his, linking their fingers and grimacing when she felt that he was not wearing his ring. "We can fix this, Elliot. We have to try."

He looked down at her hand, so tightly wrapped around his, and he heaved a sad sigh in remembrance of the comfort and absolute love and trust it once made him feel. "No," he whispered, wriggling his fingers until she loosened her grip and when her hand fell away from his, he looked up into her eyes, ignoring the mix of confusion, fear, and dwindling hope in them. "We can't. We tried, and we just...we deserve..."

"Excuse me," a young, eager man in a navy blue uniform interjected, stepping forward and handing something to Elliot. "Detective Stabler, um, sorry to interrupt, but I thought you'd want to know, your partner left without her phone. If you need her, you might..."

"Left? What?" He looked around, panic setting in, and he cursed under his breath as he grabbed the phone from the young officer, shouted something unintelligible at Kathy, and ran to hopefully catch up with Olivia. It didn't take him long, and he nearly tackled her as he met her at the car. "Don't fucking do that to me!" he yelled, grabbing her arm.

She reacted without realizing, pulling out of his hold, twisting, and wrenching his arm behind his back. "I thought you were going to stay and talk to her," she barked, pushing him forward and letting him go. "Forgive me for not wanting to be the audience to that! Besides, we have a victim to talk to and a family to console, so we can close this fucking case and end this God-damned day from fucking Hell!"

"I had no intention of staying with her!" he yelled back, reaching the car door's handle before she did. "Fuck you for even thinking I would!"

She gave him another hard shove and shouted, "Fuck you, Elliot!" She stared at him wide-eyed, jaw clenched and breathing through her teeth. "You're obviously not as 'single' as you think, if she's up there begging you to..."

"She is! I'm not!" He threw his hands up and ran around to get into the driver's side of the car. Once she was settled in the passenger seat, he started it up and peeled out of his spot so fast the tires squealed. "Damn it, Liv, she just doesn't want the embarrassment that comes with someone like her getting a divorce. I mean, shit, she's already humiliated her family twice."

"Twice?" she asked, her arms crossed and she looked at him disbelievingly.

"First, getting knocked up at seventeen, and then...marrying me. Having three more kids when we knew...fuck, we knew it was never going to last." He smoothed his hand along his chin and tried to take a deep breath as he swerved back and forth between lanes, heading to the hospital. "And I swear to God, Olivia Benson, if I ever get the chance to lay into your mother for what she did to you," he gave an evil laugh and hit the steering wheel with an open palm. "The bullshit she put in your head." He slapped the blinker and changed lanes again, slowed, and stopped waiting for the light to turn green. He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. "I've got you, Liv. And that means...that I've got the most amazing, intelligent, fearless, strong, selfless, sexy, beautiful woman on the Goddamned planet, and I have no intention of anyone ever getting in my fucking way or taking you away from me."

The tone of his voice, his expression, and the fact that the small vein in his neck was throbbing, which meant he was keeping himself from losing control, something he only did when he felt it was absolutely warranted. "Okay," she said, shrinking in her seat. "What does any of that have to do with my..."

"She put you through hell," he interrupted. "She actually made you believe that you were unlovable, that you were somehow 'less than,' but damn it, Olivia, I have never loved anyone the way I love you. Not how, or how much. I know you find it all so fucking hard to believe, but it's the God's-honest truth. It fucking has to be, right? Because we've clearly already found out that I can't lie to you."

There was silence as he pulled into the parking lot of Mercy General hospital, into a spot, and turned off the car.

She held her breath and reached for his hand, resting it gently over his as he gripped the gear-shift.

He twisted his wrist and grabbed her hand tightly and looked at her, his face softened but his voice serious, wavering. "I got it right, this time, Liv. Don't you get it? You and me...this is...right."

She leaned over and placed a soft kiss to his pulsing temple, one on his cheek, and pulled away. "Morally, no," she laughed. "But in every other sense of the word..." she looked into his eyes and smiled. "Yes."

He smiled back at her, let her hand fall from his, and said, "Let's get this over with, huh?"

She nodded and got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. She heard the alarm beep, and she fell into step with him. Walking in sync, she laughed when he handed her phone to her, rolling her eyes at herself for leaving it behind. "I, uh...I love you, too, by the way."

He froze for a moment, realizing that it was the first time she had said it, loudly and clearly, without sounding like it was going to burn her throat if she said it again. He grinned goofily as he caught up to her again, knowing that it was time to set his plan into motion, finally, and to its fullest effect. It's something he'd been promising himself he would do, and had been planning in detail for weeks, but now it was time to move.

Before he lost his nerve. He prayed that there wouldn't be any more obstacles, but he knew, as often is with prayers, they'd take a while to be answered.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	10. Chapter 10

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

She was fairly certain she had only fallen asleep a minute ago; she was also pretty damn sure she was going to kill whoever had the balls to call her at such an ungodly hour of the night. She didn't open her eyes as she shot a hand out to blindly search for the offensive device that was beeping and buzzing around on her nightstand.

"Benson," she mumbled with a half-closed mouth, her face still pressed into her pillow. Once she heard the voice on the other end, though, she was wide awake. "Oh, hi. Yeah…um, I was." She sat up slowly so the sleeping caveman next to her wouldn't rouse. "It's okay," she assured, rubbing the dregs of sleep out of her eyes as she shifted her body toward the edge of the bed. She got up easily and padded barefoot into the hallway, hoping her eyes would adjust to the dark fast. She looked over her shoulder, seeing him still sound-asleep, and she ran her tongue around her teeth and gums a few times to keep herself from mumbling again.

"I know he didn't," she said, a little bit of guilt and a lot of resentment hanging on the words, which she hoped came off as exhaustion. "Uh, yeah, he…he's here, actually." She cringed when she said it, hating herself for her innate inability to lie unless the situation absolutely demanded it. She honestly wasn't sure if this one did. "The…um, the couch," she spat out quickly. If she didn't think about it, the lies came so easily. "By the time we finished up, it was almost two-in-the-morning, he didn't want to…" she listened, "Well, he didn't think you were seriously going to wait up for him, Kathy."

She sighed as she felt her way toward her couch, the one on which Kathy now believed Elliot had been sleeping. She held in a yelp and clenched her jaw tightly when she stubbed her toe on the foot of the coffee table, making indiscriminate sounds of response to whatever Kathy was saying. Plopping down softly, she lifted her leg and rubbed her throbbing toe as she finally heard a few words: "Question, advice, help, lawyer, divorce," and a few phrases in between that may have helped her make more sense of her babbling if her heart hadn't stopped. "I could talk to him," she said, "But I already have. A couple of times. And Kathy, I know you don't want to hear this, but…I think…I think he's…" she froze.

"Kathy, please don't…don't cry," she begged, her head dropping forward into her free hand. Christ. The guilt that had been knocking at her stomach for months was now fully formed and taking over. "I know. I know the kids mean everything to him, he…he talks about them constantly. How proud he is of them, how much he loves them, and how much he really hates his job sometimes, because it takes him away from…" she stopped again, something Kathy said sending a wave of nauseous-making fear over her. "What? No, no, I know he wouldn't do that. Not…no, he would never quit, but he does have a few vacation days coming, he told me he talked to you about taking the kids to…yeah, well, I guess he meant it would just be him and the kids, Kathy, he's been pretty, uh, vocal about the separation."

She fell backward into the couch cushions behind her, letting her head drop, and stared disbelieving and unblinking at her cracked, water-damaged stucco ceiling. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she made a note to ask Elliot to caulk and repaint it this weekend, but consciously she was having a war with herself. Listening to her partner's wife make wild claims that she thought her husband was having an affair, while, at the same time, being the person he was having it with, made every cell in her body tighten.

Her voice, just above a whisper, spoke the words that, once-upon-a-time, she thought were the epitome of truth. "Kathy, he would never do something so dishonorable. He's Catholic, he's a marine, and he's…Elliot." She closed her eyes. "He would never do that to someone…someone he loves."

Her head snapped back up, her heart cracked, her brain seized, and her blood ran ice cold. "What did you just say?"

" _You heard me, Olivia," Kathy's voice sobbed. "He doesn't love me. Not anymore. I think…Olivia, I think he's in love with someone else. I think…I think it's you."_

There was pure silence, intensely so, as thoughts and the war between confession and denial raged on in Olivia's mind and heart. "I…um, I don't…Kathy, listen, I…"

" _I know he hasn't told you," Kathy interrupted, sniffling as she paused. "I mean, he's always had ruled against getting too close to his partners, but you…there's something different with you. This connection you two have, this bond, it happened almost instantly, didn't it? I'm not sure he's ever had someone like you in his life, Olivia. Not even me. I think…with you, for some reason, he finds parts of himself that I never knew existed, maybe he didn't either. You've given him something, I don't know what, that he needed. That he will need for the rest of his life. You give him…stability. If that's the word. That's something God knows I tried to provide, but he would never let me in deep enough, never let himself go too far with me, and it just all comes so easily with you."_

Olivia was the one crying now. Silent tears running down her cheeks, her eyes still fixed on the most damaged corner of her ceiling. She didn't know whether to apologize to her or thank her.

" _I know…well, at least, I'm choosing to believe that you don't know, but I see it. I've seen it for months now. It's in the little things, the way he looks at you, the way his face changes just a bit when he says your name, the way he talks about you, like you're his guardian angel, and for a while I thought I was overreacting, that it was just jealousy because he really couldn't stand his last partner, and he was still my Elliot when he came home," Kathy went on. "But he stopped coming home, Olivia. Sure, he walked through the doors and he took his showers, and he came to bed, but he never came home. I am praying with every ounce of faith left in me that I'm wrong about this, for both of our sakes, but, Olivia, I think he's only home when he's with you, now."_

Another tear rolled down her cheek. "Kathy…" she eked out, "What do you want me to do, here? If you're right…I can't change the way he feels. I can't just walk away from this job, either, so I'm…" she sniffed and tried to move, but she felt a strong hand wrap around her, keeping her still. She closed her eyes again, realizing it was Elliot, realizing that he was there, and that he could probably hear a good chunk of the conversation. "Why did you call me?"

She felt Elliot's hand begin to move, the pads of his fingers tracing detailed patterns into the skin of her arms. She felt his body move, his head dip, his lips gently swipe along the crook of her neck. She put her hand over the mouth-end of her phone and turned to look at him. "Stop," she scolded, her voice still shaking.

He shook his head at her, moving one hand upward. He brushed his thumb lightly under her eyes, wiping away the tears. "She's right," he whispered to her. "About everything." He kissed her forehead and heard her take a breath, feeling her body tremble. He pulled her closer and tried not to listen to the last part of their conversation.

"Okay," Olivia said, her eyes shut. She leaned back, into Elliot, and said, "What if you're wrong?" She laughed. "You sound so sure of all this, Kathy, but I…I don't get it." She turned her head and looked up at Elliot, speaking to him as much as she was speaking to Kathy. "I don't really believe anyone could love me like that, especially someone like him. I don't…I don't deserve that kind of…"

He stopped here from speaking with a kiss. A terribly soft, noiseless kiss, carefully cupping her face to keep her still, knowing his soon-to-be-ex-wife was on the phone. He just couldn't let her finish that sentence. He pulled back, tears springing to his eyes, and he shook as head at her.

Kathy must have said something similarly protesting, because she smiled and said, "Oh, uh, well, thank you, Kathy." She sniffled again and said, "I, um, I will. You, too, Kathy. Um. Goodnight."

Elliot pulled the phone out of her hands before she could even end the call. He pushed a side button and tossed it onto the coffee table before pulling Olivia to him, crashing his mouth into hers in a powerfully crushing kiss that reached the depths of her soul. He pried open her mouth with his tongue, his hands working their way up, under her pajama top, smoothing over her bare back.

She moaned, shock and desperation caught in the air between her mouth and his, and her hands flew to the back of his head. Her nails scratched at his scalp, making him growl against her lips, and she felt herself being pressed backward, down into the sofa.

He made quick work of her pants, working them off and throwing them to the floor, and he laughed when she gasped, after he had yanked her top off seemingly without her realizing it. He managed to wriggle out of his own sweatpants at the same time, and he looked down at her with pure love in his eyes as he gave a hard thrust of his hips and kissed her again, sheathing himself inside of her.

She let a moan loose into his mouth, taking him all the way in, arching her back.

"You…" he breathed softly, "Deserve to be loved, so fucking loved, Olivia. And I…"

"I know," she gasped, feeling him pull out and thrust in, feeling every inch of him drag and push and fill her so entirely. "God, El, I know."

"I don't think you do," he whispered. He moved slowly, deeply, kissing her softly, breathing in short, hot, bursts against her lips. "You'll never know how much….fuck, how much I…"

"El," she said, stopping him and curling her nails into his back, "Baby, I know." She could almost feel his skin snapping, knowing she was leaving crescent-moon shaped bruises beneath her fingers. "Elliot. God, Elliot," she whispered over and over, a perfect mantra.

He bent his head and kissed her again, fiercely this time, and moved harder, faster, staking a claim on her that neither of them could deny. He gripped her hands, his fingers linking with hers and he whispered a promise, a vow, into her ear.

Her back arched again. "Fuck, God, Elliot," she cried, and she nodded finally telling him she agreed, wholly, with the words he'd just whispered to her. She knew, now, how serious he was, and had been, and the part of her that doubted it was silenced.

Finally admitting and accepting how truly serious this all was would make it that much harder to do as Kathy had asked, and pretend she didn't know how he felt. For the sake of his kids, she would try, but something on the horizon would certainly make it more difficult than she could possibly imagine.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"What was his name again?" Elliot squinted as he looked across the desk at his partner.

"Logan," she said. "Mike Logan." She shook her head and signed the last page of the file on her desk. "Damn shame."

Elliot hummed in agreement. "Well, we never have to worry about that." He looked up, suddenly worried. "Wait, do we?"

She chuckled as she closed the file and tossed it into a paper try in the corner of her desk. "No," she said, "But, uh, we have a lot of...other stuff...to worry about." She shot him a severe look and leaned forward, lowering her voice. "I heard you, this morning, on the phone. You told the kids that I was coming with you, and I told Kathy you wanted the weekend alone with them to tell them..."

"You are coming with us," he hissed back in a harsh whisper, cutting her off, narrowing his eyes. "Because I need you there, okay? I'm about to rip my kids' worlds apart, and I need you there. I don't give a shit if Kathy knows or not, and as far as she's concerned, you don't know how I feel about you, so what are you..."

"Stabler," Cragen called, on his way toward the paired off desks, "Benson. You got one," he said, holding out an assignment slip. "Be gentle with this one, huh?"

Olivia took the slip, looked down, and cringed. "Damn," she said, handing it across to Elliot.

"Shit," he spat. "She's somebody's grandmother."

Olivia grabbed her jacket and watched Elliot's face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. She walked beside him as they headed out of the squad room, and when they were near the elevator, she asked, "Speaking of grandmothers, my mother called this morning, bitching because she wasn't one, yet."

Elliot laughed, but leaned closer to her. "I can fix that, you know."

She made a disconcerting face and shook her head. "No, please," she said dryly. "Not now, anyway. Maybe...one day...but you know now is the worst possible time."

"Why?" He asked the question honestly, eyeing her carefully as they got into the elevator.

"Seriously?" She looked at him as though he'd just told her he believed the world was flat. "Elliot, you're married, not to me, by the way. You've already got four kids, I live in a one-bedroom apartment, and this isn't even a real..."

"Relationship?" he finished for her, almost hurt. "Liv, that's exactly what this is. It's the most real and serious relationship I've ever..."

"You mean besides your marriage," she intruded, crossing her arms.

"Including," he corrected. "We talked about this last night, I thought we..."

"El, what we did last night was not considered talking," she said almost bitterly.

"All right," he fumed, hitting the emergency stop button and grabbing her shoulders. "What the fuck is your issue?"

She had a glimmer of fear in her eyes as she looked back at him. Enough to make him loosen his grip and give her a softer expression. "My issue...Elliot, my issue is that you just offered to be the father of my children, and I can't even tell my mom that I found someone who could be..."

She never got the rest of her words out; his kiss shut her up. His hands slipped through her hair, tangling and twisting at the same rate as their tongues. "I'm not offering," he mumbled against her lips, "I'm promising." He let the kiss grow in intensity and power, his fingers tightening in her locks, and he moaned into her mouth once just before pulling back, breathless. "And I'm not married. Not in any way but legal, and that's...being taken care of, so please, stop negating how real this is."

She brought a hand up to her reddened lips, his taste still on her tongue, and she nodded once, numbly, as she reached out and restarted the elevator. "Sorry, I just..."

"You got scared," he said. "Liv, I'm fucking terrified, but I'm happy. With you, and the prospect of our life together, I'm fucking happy." He cupped her cheeks and brushed his nose lightly against hers. "Happier than I've ever been, than I think I have a right to be. Are you happy?"

She shook her head. "With you, yes, but not...not like this. I feel so..."

"Don't," he kissed her softly just as the doors began to open. He pulled away from her fully, knowing they had to veer back into professionalism, and he whispered, "Please, you don't have anything to feel guilty about. Not now, not ever. We're going to be..."

"Excuse me," a woman with dark hair piped up, standing in front of them.

Olivia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Carmichael," she said, nodding at the lawyer. "What?"

Abbie Carmichael, an ADA stretching herself thin working with three different departments, focused her attention on Elliot. "I was just coming up to see you," she said, handing him a folder. "Case closed."

Elliot, not looking up from the file in his hands, said, "Thanks, but we have to..."

"I heard you need a lawyer," Carmichael interrupted. "Personal. Possibly divorce." She handed him a business card. "He's a friend. He'll do everything you need him to do, no doubt about it."

Stunned now, he looked up. "Um, thanks."

Carmichael nodded, turned on her heels, and walked away.

"Great," Olivia scoffed. "I spent the last year competing with Kathy, now I have to..."

"Don't even finish that sentence," Elliot laughed. "No contest, Liv, trust me. Did you hear me back there?" He jutted a thumb over his shoulder at the elevator and led her through the station doors.

She couldn't help but smile, though it was small, as she pushed the glass doors open and turned toward the station lot. "Yeah, yeah, I heard you." She took a breath. "And as much as I hate to say it out loud, jinx it, I...I believe you." She looked at him, stopping them both in their tracks as they reached the brownish-red sedan. "I believe you, Elliot, and that's...that's what scares me."

He reached out and brushed her hair behind her ears. "Me, too, Liv. But the fear...that's what makes it great, tells us it's important." He blinked once, frozen. "Fuck, I'd give anything to kiss you right now."

She felt heat rise to her cheeks and turned away before he could see her blush, and got into the car.

He laughed to himself, knowing he had gotten to her, and ran around to the driver's side. Once settled in, he strapped his seat belt, started the car, and checked the time. "You, uh, you do want to come with us, don't you? I didn't mean to assume, if you really want to..."

"Drive," she interrupted. She smile again. "We need to get this done, fast, because I need to pack."

He exhaled, relieved, and chuckled as he pulled out of the lot, heading to a crime scene that, he hoped, would lead to a quickly-closed case. He had plans, and a lengthy investigation was not part of them.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"Well," Elliot said, rubbing his eyes, "It was short lived, but at least I got to talk to the kids." He tossed his keys down on his desk and looked over at Munch. "What've we got?"

"Cassidy's been in Cragen's office all day, something pretty huge going on there, and I can't take two by myself. Jeffries is already out." Munch looked over at Olivia and Elliot. "You two look..."

"I know what we look like," Elliot said, scratching at his stumbled chin. "What's on the plate?"

Munch rubbed his nose and said, "Remember Agent Schreck?"

Olivia crossed her arms. "Of course, it's only been, what, two weeks?"

Munch gave a soft grunt as he handed her a piece of paper. "He's dead." He pointed toward his computer, tilted his head, and said, "Think someone was sending him, and the rest of the FBI, a message."

Olivia looked over Munch's shoulder, immediately stiffening. "Elliot," she called.

Elliot moved, right behind her, leaned into her and looked at the monitor. "Is that the same website..."

"Yeah, it is," Munch said. "Whoever killed him wanted us to know he was dead."

Elliot nodded. "Wanted the rest of the sick fucks in that group to know, too."

Munch looked at Elliot. "I guess you're taking this one?"

Nodding again, Elliot said, "Damn right." He reached back over to his desk for his keys, but he caught a glimpse of someone in the doorway. He laughed, a bitter and almost resentful chuckle. "Of course," he said to himself. He turned his head and with his keys now tightly clenched in his fist, he said, "Hi, Kathy."

"What the hell did you say to them?" his wife snapped in a fuming whisper. She stormed over and pushed both of her open palms into his chest. "What did you do to them?"

"Hey!" He grabbed both of her hands with one of his and narrowed his eyes at her. "Calm the hell down! I told them the truth!" He shook his head slightly and a bit of a smirk creeped across his face. "I told them everything."

"Well, now, they're not talking to me," Kathy said sternly, pulling her hands away from him. "The girls are pissed off, throwing temper tantrums, and don't get me started on how Dickie spoke to me before he stormed out of the house."

"What?" Elliot gasped, worried now. "Where did he go? You just let him..."

"He went to Sam's house," Kathy interrupted, calming him slightly, "His mother called me. He's fine." She cleared her throat. "Maureen is going to the game, at school, with some friends. She doesn't want to be in the house, either, so tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do!"

"Look, it's not just you," he said to her. "They were pretty angry at me, too. The whole ride back, it was colder than an arctic winter in the car." He shrugged. "What did you expect?"

Kathy looked at him, confused. "You didn't..."

"No, I didn't say anything about you. Nothing that wasn't true." He crossed his arms. "You really think I would try to turn them against you? You don't know me at all, Kathy. Maybe you never did. That's why this is happening."

Kathy looked down. "I panicked. I'm sorry."

"Elliot," Olivia called, irritated. "If you need to deal with this, I'll go on my own."

"No," he said firmly. "Nothing to deal with," he continued. Staring at Kathy, he said, "Let's go." He turned away from her, let the keys dangle from his fingers, and followed her out of the squad room. "Thanks," he said to her as they walked down the hallway.

"I didn't do it for you," she said. "We had work to do. A body waiting. We had to cancel plans, you lost the deposit on the hotel, I am in no mood to let the case go cold because your wife can't decide if she's ready to be your ex-wife, yet."

"Not her decision to make," he scoffed, punching the button on the wall for the elevator. "Listen, you heard every word I said to my kids this morning, you heard everything they said, or didn't say, to me. I called a lawyer, papers are being drawn up right-the-fuck now, so what more do you..."

"Relax," she said, stopping his rant. She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled sharply. "I didn't say I blamed you, did I? I just said I didn't want to deal with it. I know you didn't, either."

The doors closed quickly and the conversation turned toward work just as fast. "These guys, Liv, they're..."

"I know," she said, nodding at him. "They're the ones that really get to you. At least their victim, this time, isn't a child."

"Nah, just one of the guys who was trying to put them in cages, where they belong," Elliot said. "Someone wasn't part of the round-up, took him out, and then told the rest of his friends it was safe to stop hiding." He shook his head as the doors opened and he walked with her through the lobby. "Shit, I should've grabbed the file, the list of names." He unlocked the car and by the time he got behind the wheel, Olivia had the case file pulled up on the screen of her cell phone, grinning at him.

"Guess you haven't figured out the mobile database, yet," she laughed.

"I didn't know we had one," he retorted. Pulling out of the parking space, his mind wandered. He drove, mechanically, as his thoughts teemed with emotional internal argument and recollection of moments he hadn't thought about in a long while. He let his very first lucid, lewd dream of Olivia replay, how he'd envisioned her in a black and pink corset and nothing else, waiting for him on the edge of a hot tub in a fancy hotel room. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat as he fantasizes about taking the slip of fabric and bit of ribbon off of her incredible body. He shook his head, chuckles escaping, as he realized his dreams didn't really do her justice, and the reality was so much more incredible.

He relived the first time his fingers grazed her bare skin, how the burn of whiskey stuck in his throat as the rest of his body was lit aflame by her. The liquor gave him the guts, but her eagerness gave him the strength. He remembered the taste of their first real kiss, one that was not a part of some act, more than a friendly peck. Mint, coffee, a bit of Johnny Walker. The sound of her voice as she moaned for him for the first time rang in his ears. The way her wetness coated his fingers, and then his lips, and then his cock, sending him into blissful oblivion. He licked his lips, remembering how it felt to have her writhing and tightening beneath him, and he groaned as he recalled the cry that erupted from her when she came, for him, for the first time. It was like a drug, a new addiction, and he's been craving more and more ever since.

He frowned, then, as thoughts turned to bitter memories involving fights with his wife, the debilitating and morally crippling decision to cross a very thick, red line with Olivia, and the damage it had caused both personally and professionally. Again, he shook his head, knowing it was all so very worth it. Little moments came to mind, as he pulled out onto a main strip of road. The way she fiddled with pens and pencils as she sat at her desk, the way her eyes lit up every time he smiled at her, the rough and strong side of her that showed itself in the heat of every case they'd worked together. Then, the difficult conversations he'd had over and over again with his wife, initially trying to convince her there was nothing going on between him and his partner, and then trying to convince her that there was.

It all seemed to lead up to this moment, not being in a smelly police issued car, but being on the verge of a messy but nevertheless necessary divorce and a fulfilling relationship with Olivia, a strong bond with his kids, and something he hadn't felt in years: happiness.

"Earth to Elliot," she called to him, having tried to talk to him for the past few minutes.

He looked over at her, stiffening immediately. Her shoulder-length locks fell loosely into her eyes, her emerald green sweater creased where her toned arms had crossed, pushing up her chest, and the look on her face was on a spectrum somewhere between intimidating and arousing. "Uh, sorry, what?"

She rolled her eyes. "I said, most of them are still locked up. There's only two, on this list, that could be involved." She flicked her hair out of her eyes with one finger, still looking at him, and asked, "You okay?"

"Just thinking," he said, nodding. "Is James Canfield still roaming free?"

"Uh...yeah," she said, nodding as she scrolled through the file. "How'd you..."

"Going with my gut," he said. "You know, something about him...the first time...he was the only one who made open threats to any of us, and I remember him saying..."

"He'd be their savior, protect and defend his kind," she finished. "I remember." She looked out the window and sighed. "He didn't have a family. No wife. No kids."

"Who?" He squinted as he turned and pulled into a small spot behind two squad cars with their flashing lights.

"Schreck," she said, opening her door. "When I took this job, El, I thought, I was certain, that would eventually be...me."

"Liv," he said, one hand on his door handle and the other gripping her arm, "Never. You...and me...always." He blinked once. "I love you."

She moved, kissed him quickly and softly, and whispered back to him, "Thank God." She smiled. "I love you, too." She eased away from him, pulled her badge out of her pocket, and headed toward the gathered officers and medical examiner.

Elliot finally got out of the car, but his phone rang as soon as he closed the door. "Stabler," he spoke, waking toward Olivia, a smile on his face. That smile faded, though, as the voice on the other end spoke. "What? Okay, stay there. Don't move, and don't hang up! I'm on my way!" He held the phone, open and still connected, as his heart raced. "Olivia!" he yelled, frozen to his spot. "Liv!"

She turned, knowing that sound of his voice, and what it meant. She saw him, standing still, shaking, white, and ran back to him. "What? What happened?"

He shook his head, threw himself around her, squeezing tight.

"El, what is it?" she prodded again.

"We have to go...the kids," he mumbled, moving to get back into the car. "My kids, Liv."

"What happened?" She got into the passenger seat, no questions asked, and sent a few quick texts to Cragen, Munch, and Jeffries. "Tell me what..."

He looked at her, still pale white. "Active shooter at Cardinal Catholic."

"Oh, my God," she said, turning just as white as him. "Maureen."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	13. Chapter 13

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Olivia, clutching a terrified Maureen, looked over the teen's shoulder toward her father, who was talking to Sergeant Tucker, IAB. She was running her fingers through the girl's hair, trying to quiet her sobs, but at the same time, trying to read Elliot's lips.

Maureen sniffled again, wiped her eyes with her long sleeve, and looked up at Olivia. "I'm okay, Liv, thanks."

Olivia still held the girl's shoulders. "Hey," she said, looking down and into Maureen's eyes. "You can cry all you want, honey. No one will fault you for that."

Maureen nodded, her lower lip trembling, and she fell into Olivia's open arms again, clutching her back tightly.

Elliot almost broke, taking in the sight of it, but he composed himself and wrapped a loose arm around Olivia, letting his other arm fall around Maureen, embracing them both. "Come on," he said, "Let's go home."

"Don't you have to go back to work?" Maureen asked, blinking her red eyes up at him as she peeled herself off of Olivia.

Elliot shook his head. "No," he said, leaning down and kissing the crown of his daughter's head. He pulled her along, heading across the field, and he turned to give Olivia a pained but relieved expression. The slow stroll to the parking lot was a quiet one, Maureen's slowing sniffles filling the gaps between Olivia and Elliot's alternating sighs. Elliot opened the back seat for his daughter, and when the door was shut, he turned to Olivia. Wordlessly, he pulled her to him, holding her for a moment, a soft hug.

She eased away and looked into his eyes. "What happened with Tucker?"

He frowned and shook his head. "Nothing unexpected," he said as he leaned up against the car. "Took my piece, ballistics needs to match it to the bullet that killed the bastard. Told me I was out of line coming down here, but he understood why I had to, and he, uh, gave me the night off." He looked at her, a small smile gracing his lips.

"You have the night off," she said, nodding once. "But I don't." She folded her arms and bit her lip, looked down, and said, "I have to go back. Tell...tell the kids I love them. Just...just be with them, tonight." She gave him a soft, adoring look, flicked the hair out of her eyes, and walked away from him, heading toward a squad car.

Elliot sighed again, took a deep breath, and got into the driver's seat of the car. He turned around to look at his daughter. "Did you tell Olivia…"

"Everything," Maureen said, nodding. "He just…walked across the football field and started…oh, God, Dad, did anyone get…"

"No, honey. No one got hurt, except…except him." He smiled at her, sadly, and then turned around. He put the car into gear, and pulled away from the school's lot. "Hey, kid," he said, nerves creeping into existence, "You, uh, you understand, right? What we talked about this morning?"

Maureen sniffled, dried the last of her terror-filled tears, and nodded. "I saw it coming, to be honest. You and mom…you're different than you used to be. There's just…something…and I know…if you didn't end it, you would've started to hate each other, and none of us…Dad, none of us want that. We know it's the best thing, for all of us. It's gonna be hard, I'm not saying we're happy about it, but we…we get it."

"You do?" Elliot asked. He felt incredible relief and something verging on happiness. "You mean that? You're not just saying that so I shut up about it?"

Maureen laughed. "Duh, dad, I mean it." She looked out the window, dropping her head against the glass. Her eyes slid shut and she said, "Besides, you're not in love with Mom anymore, are you?"

The car swerved as Elliot coughed violently. "Huh?" he questioned, clearing his throat and swallowing hard.

"People in love," she said to her father, "They don't fight the way you and Mom do. Not…not about the things we can hear you fighting about, anyway. And you're never home. Even when we know you're not at work, you're…never home. Maybe I read too many books, but people who are in love, they want to be together all the time, right? If you were still in love with Mom, you'd come home, no matter what."

Elliot pulled the car over, turned around to look at his daughter, stunned. "Excuse me?"

Maureen lifted her head and opened her eyes, looking wearily at her father. "What?" she asked. "It's true, isn't it?" She paused, waiting for a response, and when she didn't get one, she shook her head. "You can admit it."

Elliot let out the breath he'd been holding. "Yeah," he expressed, nodding. "I'm just wondering…when you grew up."

She smiled at him. "I'm a lot like you, Dad. I don't miss much." She let her head fall against the glass and smiled, keeping another bit of what she didn't miss all to herself.

The rest of the ride was silent. Maureen had fallen asleep and Elliot carried her into the house and up to her room, tucked her in and kissed her forehead, and then plodded back down into the living room. He looked around, as if seeing the room for the first time.

"Elliot," Kathy's voice called to him, and when he turned to her, surprised, she tossed the dishcloth over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "You look…odd."

He turned up his lips and shook his head. "Just thinking."

"About us?" she asked, a hopeful quality to the words. She moved closer to him and gave him a half-smile.

"No, uh," he stammered. He scratched his head, let that hand scrape down his face, and shrugged, defeated. "About how much of this stuff…is just stuff now. The pictures on the walls, the furniture, it's all just…stuff. Once upon a time, Kathy, it all meant something. Pictures, you know?" He held out an open palm toward the wall. "Those are memories that used to make me smile, fill my heart, and now…I look at them, and I don't know that guy anymore." His hand fell to the back of the sofa, his head hanging as he ran a hand across the upholstery. "I remember buying this couch," he laughed. "We had a fifty dollar budget, and I had to barter with the salesman just to bring it down to seventy-five, and man, you were pissed at me for overspending." He scraped his teeth along his lower lip, scoffing. "Now, I look at it, and it just reminds me that I spent a good chunk of the last two years sleeping on it, there's a dent in the cushions and three broken springs."

Kathy's eyes almost crossed as she screwed her face up at him. "What the hell are you…"

"When did everything change?" he asked. "How did we miss it?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at his wife. "Our kids are growing up, and our marriage has shifted in ways I never thought it would, and I don't know how we let it come to this."

Kathy shook her head fast and held out her hands. "I don't know what you're saying, are you telling me you want to come home? Fix this? Buy a new couch? What are…"

"It's over," he told her. He blinked once. "This marriage, this life we built and worked too hard to keep together, it's over. We aren't the same people we were when we got married, and I don't like the man I'm becoming by lying to myself about it." He bit his lip and took a breath. "I'll finish packing, tonight. I'll call my lawyer in the morning, you can keep this house. It's…it's not home anymore. Maureen actually…made me realize that it hasn't been home, for me, in a long time."

Kathy felt an all too familiar burn behind her nose, tears springing to her eyes even though she tried to fight them. She swallowed a lump in her throat and said, "That's funny, because it's not home, for me, without you here, Elliot. I don't know when I lost you. It's like…one night we went to bed happy and the next morning…we were strangers. Answer a question for me…and be honest, please?"

He looked away from her, assuming she would ask him the one thing he would not be able to be honest about. "Shoot," he said, tossing a hand in her direction.

"Did we fall apart before or after you met Olivia Benson?" she questioned, tears now slowly journeying from eye to chin.

He was tearing up, now, too. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to shake it off. "Before," he told her. "Long before. I just…" He looked at Kathy and freely let himself cry slowly. He sniffed once, and he said, "I just let myself pretend we were okay. I let a lot of my feelings go, staying here, for the kids. For you. But when she walked into my life…she made me realize that I was losing myself trying to keep from losing you."

Jealousy hit Kathy like a hard kick to the stomach. "So when did you start sleeping with her? I mean, have I been the oblivious wife for over a year, or…"

"Stop that," Elliot pressed, interrupting her. "I meant…getting to know her. Having someone to talk to, who really understood. Someone I could open up to, the way I…I never could with you. She never criticized or blamed or made me feel insecure about anything I did or said. She still…let's me be myself. Really…myself. I talk about stupid dreams I have and she doesn't think they're stupid at all, and she convinces me to go after them. I wear the bright, Hawaiian shirts that you hate and she makes me feel like I should be on the cover of GQ. Says they match my personality. And she competes with me, Kathy! She argues with me, and she fights me on shit, and she challenges me, and she is the best friend I have ever had for it!"

She closed her eyes and jumped each time his voice rose, and she succumbed to the emotions pulling at her. "Damn it," she said, shakily. She let out two jerky sobs and said, "You could have had all of that with…"

"You…" he turned and pulled her to him, his hands on her shoulders. "Kathy you were my first love, but at seventeen…I didn't know what love was, or what it should've been. We made a lot of mistakes, and I love Maureen with all my heart, I would kill and die for my daughter, but I wasn't ready to be a father and husband anymore than you were ready to be a mother and a wife." He blinked, pushing a few more tears out of his eyes. "I will always cherish you, believe me, but you…being with you taught me how to really listen, compromise, bite my tongue when it's necessary. You've given me four amazing little angels, my kids are my life, and you know that. But I can't force myself to fit into a life that I've outgrown. Neither can you. We deserve better than that, Kathy."

She was silent. She rubbed her eyes and stared at him.

"I can tell," he said, "When you look at me, I can tell that you feel the same way. I was honest with you, Kathy, now, I need you to be honest with me. Are you still in love with me? I mean, madly, head-over-heels, the-sun-shines-out-of-my-ass-in-love…with me?"

Kathy looked at him and stifled a laugh, and then she sighed. He could always make her laugh, even when she didn't want to. She took a deep breath and as she exhaled she slowly shook her head. "When you put it like that…no. I love you, Elliot, I do, but not…not the way I used to. I guess I was just hoping that…it would all come back to us."

He shook his head. "No, Kathy, something much better is coming, for both of us." He dipped his head and kissed her cheek, and he was about to say something to her, another off-the-cuff remark to end the conversation on an amicable note, but his phone rang. He rolled his eyes as he dug for it. "Night off, my ass," he mumbled. He answered the call with a sharp, "Stabler."

Kathy watched as Elliot's eyes widened. He had gone white, for the second time that night. "What is it?"

He held up a finger as he moved to grab his keys off the coffee table. He didn't say anything at all, he just shoved his phone in his pocket and ran fast, out the door, leaving it open as he bolted toward his car.

Kathy stood in the doorway, watching him peel out of the driveway, leaving angry rubber streaks in his wake. She heard the tires squeal as he sped off down the street, and she knew there was only one person, aside from his children, who would ever make him panic like that. She drew a hand to her mouth, worried, as she gasped, "Olivia."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	14. Chapter 14

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

He hadn't taken a breath since he got the phone call. Or at least that's what it felt like, because his lungs burned and his heart was pounding against his chest at a rate that would rival a Olympic sprinter. He couldn't make sense of any of the noises around him, it all seemed to muddle together into a low, muffled buzz. His vision was blurry, too, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was slowly dying, or because of the tears that flooded his eyes after every blink.

He rubbed his chin, and then his eyes, hoping to gain some clarity, and he felt a hand on his shoulder squeeze him. He looked up and shook his head. "What the hell is going on here?" he asked, looking up at Cassidy and sniffling. "No one told me anything, Cragen won't let me in there, and we just…"

His words were cut off by the sound of gunfire. A conversation of bullets, mixed with some interjected shouts and punctuated by the words, "all clear" given over a walkie-talkie. He looked up, toward the metal and brick building, and he pushed Cassidy aside and started for the door.

He spotted her just as she was coming out, her face had gone pale, making the spatter of blood across her cheek look even more stark. He shoved the other officers and EMT's out of his way as he tried to get closer to her, and when he finally reached her, he broke.

She fell into his open arms, letting her own relieved tears fall, and she didn't fight him when he picked her up, off of her feet. "I'm okay," she said, her voice like sandpaper.

He blinked as he put her back down, keeping his hands on her hips. He looked into her eyes as he moved, his fingers carving a path up her sides to her face, and he cupped her cheeks. "I should've been there. It should've…"

"No," she said, stopping him and shaking her head. "No, your family comes first, El, you know…"

"You," he interrupted, "Are my family." He looked around, hoping he wouldn't see Cragen or Tucker, or anyone one else who could kill him for what he was about to do. He kissed her, hard, full on the mouth, and when he pulled away with a smacking pop, he let his palms graze over her entire body. "Are you…hurt…or hit…anywhere?"

She shook her head, clearing her throat, and gave him a gentle nudge. "Out of the way," she said, guiding him to the side, off of the steps, and out of the way of the team of medics coming out of the building. They carried two gurneys, one with a living, breathing passenger, a cop, and the other with a strapped down body bag.

Elliot looked at her, one brow arching. "Who…"

"Officer McNally," she said. "He was in the front of the line, the first one he shot at. Took two to the shoulder, but he…he'll be okay."

"Liv, what happened? Who was that?"n He brushed her hair back and gripped her hand tightly as he pulled her toward the waiting pack of squad cars.

Olivia took a deep breath. "We found out who killed Schreck," she said. "It was Noel Henderson. The photographer. We went down to his studio, they said he was working from the office," she paused, took another breath, and said, "We had him surrounded, but instead of coming out and giving up, he locked himself in his office, with his secretary." She jutted a thumb over her shoulder, turning Elliot's attention to a frantic, crying redhead flanked by uniformed officers. "We called in a negotiator, and while he was distracted, a couple of us went in through the back, took the stairs, had him cornered. He…he refused to go down without a fight. He said he wouldn't give up until we recognized that he was fighting for his right to love, and it wasn't a crime." She stopped near a black van and pulled off her vest, and then looked at him again. "McNally kicked down the door, the son-of-a-bitch pushed his secretary to the ground and shot at us, I…I waited for an open shot, and I…I took him down."

"Wait, baby, you…"

"No, no, I shot him in the leg. He was on the ground, he gave up, Elliot, we had him," she spoke fast, sniffling now that the gravity of the situation hit her. "Jeffries…Jeffries took another shot…she…" She looked up at him, looked around, and said, "She killed him. She stood over him, aimed, and shot him right in the head, when he was already…"

"Benson," Cragen's voice beckoned.

She turned, seeing her captain marching toward her with Ed Tucker and Brian Cassidy right by his side. "You need to give Cassidy your…"

"I just gave it to Elliot," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. "I really don't want to…"

"He's off duty, Olivia," Ed Tucker said, as gently as he could. "Why don't, uh, both of you, come with me, huh? I'll make it as painless as possible."

Elliot looked at Tucker inquisitively; he licked his lips, and then nodded. "Okay," he said, looping on hand around Olivia's elbow. "Come on," he whispered to her. He held onto her as they followed Tucker, heading for one of the silver SUVs parked haphazardly on the lawn. He opened the door for her, helped her in, and then slid in beside her. "Here, or down at the station, what?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Doesn't really matter," Tucker said, starting the car. "But you should know…I saw you." He caught Elliot's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Don't say I never did you any favors, because I'm pulling rank here, and I won't say a damn thing to your captain."

Elliot, confused, folded his arms and said, "Thanks. I think."

Tucker chuckled. "Just, uh, when did this start? Before or after Kathy left your sorry ass?"

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Man, you have to be joking," he muttered. "I, uh, I wouldn't…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Tucker droned, turning the wheel. "Good little Catholic boy, right?" He smirked and shook his head. "Benson, I need to ask you, point blank, who shot Henderson first?"

"I did," she said, almost mechanically, staring out the window. Apparently, she hadn't heard any of the exchange between Tucker and Elliot. "I shot twice, the first hit his knee, the second his ankle. I wanted to bring him down, incapacitate, and hope to use what little leverage we had to get more names from him. My job…going into this, was to save and protect those children."

Elliot heard the fury in her voice, the way it edged out through a tightly clamped jaw and clenched teeth, and he raised a hand to rest on her shoulder. He squeezed once, as Cassidy had done for him only a little while ago, and he whispered, "It's okay. We'll find them."

She shook her head and swallowed hard. After taking a long, deep breath, she opened her eyes and said, "Next question?"

Tucker turned the wheel again, taking the curve a little faster. He pulled over to the side of the road, parking in front of the sixteenth precinct, and he got out of the car. He opened the door for Olivia, waited until she was out of the car and halfway over to Elliot before closing the door, and locked the SUV. He walked with them into the building, but stopped when they got to the main staircase. "Go on up," he said, and then he looked at Elliot. "Get her a cup of coffee, calm her down, I'll be up in five minutes." He slapped Elliot's shoulder and walked toward the front desk, losing himself in conversation with the receptionist.

Elliot slipped his hand around Olivia's waist, resting his palm on her back, ushering her up the steps fast. Instead of guiding her toward their squad room, though, he pulled her in the opposite direction.

She pulled back, questioning, "El, what are you…"

"Shh," he hushed, raising a hand to his lips. He tugged her through the metal doors of the locker room. He only gave her a moment, before he spun her around, pushed her against the door, and slammed his mouth into hers. He kissed her with more insistence than he ever had before, moaning as he desperately clawed at her clothes.

"Elliot, what are you…" her breathless protests were silenced by his kiss again. She let a moan escape, catching on his tongue, and she melted into the metal behind her. She felt his hands slip into her black pants, his fingers search for the sides of her silk underpants, feeling for her slick slit. "Oh, my God, Elliot," she breathed when his fingertips found their final destination.

He let out a low, deep growl, pushing his fingers into her and crooking them fast, over and over again. He kissed her again, a devouring kiss that he hoped could reach her soul, he hoped she could feel everything.

Her hands swiped down his chest, fished their way under his shirt, and started scratching up and down his back. "Elliot," she mewed, "Oh, God, Elliot." The tension from her hellish day had been building to a crescendo as it was, but he was lighting a new fire beneath it, expanding it, making it burn.

"Baby," he whispered, keeping her lower lip snug between his teeth. He pulled gently, letting it fall back, and he kissed her again, slowly. He worked his fingers into her deeper, twisting them, and he swiped his thumb over her sensitive clit, earning a yelp for his efforts.

"Shit, El," she cried, her head falling back hard against the metal door. "Oh, my God," she whimpered. Her fingers curled and her nails dug deeper into his skin.

"Fuck, baby," he croaked, eager to bring her over the blessed precipice, knowing he didn't have much time to do it. "Cum," he commanded, letting the pad of his thumb circle her clit again. He felt her tightening, catching her soft moans in his mouth as he kissed her, and when she clamped around his fingers, he kissed her harder to muffle her cries. Slowly, he eased his fingers out and back inside of her, bringing her down, easing her back from her high. His kiss slowed, too, becoming a more gentle and loving one. "Hey," he whispered with a smile.

She grinned back at him, dropping her hands to his waist. "Hey," she laughed. "What was that for?"

"Tucker," he shrugged. "Told me to calm you down. So I did." He kissed her languidly as he readjusted her pants and buttoned them up. "Come on," he said to her. He peeled her away from the door and supported her as she walked, her legs still trembling, down the hall.

They walked into the squad room just before Tucker got there, just in time to see Cragen and another officer from IAB bring Jeffries into an interrogation room. Olivia cringed when she heard the door slam, and she knew that a good cop had let herself go too far, and it would cost her. "Thank you," she whispered to Elliot.

"For what?" he asked. He leaned closer to her. "That? You never have to thank me for…"

"No," she said, interrupting him. "Thank you for…getting in my head. For always trusting me to do what is absolutely necessary, for trusting that I won't…do what she did," she said. "I hear you, even when you're not with me, and you…you keep me grounded."

He smiled at her. "You do the same thing for me," he whispered to her.

Tucker finally broke up their conversation and sat across from them, slapping down a yellow notebook and a pen. "Now, Benson, don't try to protect anyone, don't try to do anyone any favors."

"You know me, Tucker, I wouldn't…" she stopped when she saw the look he was giving her. "Well, it's not Elliot, so you know I wouldn't."

Tucker nodded, licked his lips, and picked up his pen. He looked at Olivia and said, "Tell me what happened after you shot Henderson."

Elliot stared at her as she spoke, listening to the harrowing story for a second time, in greater detail. Watching her strength shine made his heart swell, and he knew that now that things with Kathy had been settled, it was time to take another step. One that would convince Olivia that she had nothing to be afraid of, and convince himself that he had nothing to lose.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	15. Chapter 15

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"There she is," Munch said, leaning back in his chair, his bespectacled eyes following Olivia as she walked, almost angrily, toward the coffee pot on the side of the room. "And she's not happy."

Olivia scoffed as she poured some of the strong, dark brew into a foam cup, downed it in one sip, and poured a second. She did the same as before, throwing it back like shots.

"What the hell is wrong?" her partner asked, walking over to her and taking the pot out of her hands before she could pour a third cup. "You hate black coffee."

She looked at him as if he had just ripped her child out of her arms. "I don't have easy access to whisky, right now," she complained. She gritted her teeth, narrowed her eyes, and said, "If you don't give that back, I'm going down for police brutality and assaulting an officer."

He raised one brow, but didn't give her the pot. "What happened?" He lowered his voice, took the cup from her hand, and filled it halfway with coffee. He put the carafe back where it belonged and proceeded to fix her coffee for her, the way she liked it, staring at her and waiting for an answer.

She sighed, rubbed her eyes, and shook her head. "Tucker," she mumbled with a one-shouldered shrug. "He's being way too hard on Jeffries, not hard enough on me, this case is…those kids are still in danger, there are four other assholes out there that we can't find because are only lead is in the morgue, I just…"

"Not hard enough on you?" he asked, interrupting her. "You didn't do anything wrong! You did everything by the book, he doesn't need to…"

"Not because of…" she stopped, taking the coffee from him and taking a long sip. She looked around, and then looked at Elliot. "He knows. About us. About…us," she said, emphasizing the last word, holding it out to somehow indicate the illicit and improper quality of their relationship.

Elliot scratched a spot behind his ear, pursed his lips a bit, and nodded. "Yeah, I, uh, I told him." He held up both hands, palms out toward her, and said, "Don't, okay? Don't say anything. I told him because he saw us at that house, he saw us in that car…I had to tell him before he got too fucking nosy, before it became this thing he hung over our heads." His eyes darted towards Cragen's office, and then landed once again on Olivia's face. "He said he…he said the same thing he told us in the car. He isn't going to take any sort of action, because it's not affecting our work, and he isn't going to tell Cragen. He did say…that if it ever does…cause problems…we'd have to answer to the chief, and there could be consequences, which, at most, we're talking suspension or…"

"Hold on," she said, squinting, putting her empty cup on the table. "What?"

Elliot ran a hand down his face, taking another moment to smooth it across his chin. "I talked to him, fuck, for almost three hours, after he was done with you. That's why I told you to go upstairs and take a nap." He took a deep breath, let it slowly, fully conscious of how his lungs burned and his heart ached. "I had to tell him, I had to know if…"

Cragen's voice interrupted his speech, as one of his trademark shouts garnered the attention of the entire squad room. "Munch, Cassidy, take it and run," he spat, handing the younger detective an assignment slip, "Benson, Stabler, you got a one-thirty, thirty-five, three on…"

Olivia's bitter chuckle broke into the captain's command. She raked the fingers of her right hand through her hair, her left arm draping across her waist. "Jesus," she hissed. "You're spouting penal codes at us? What's that, some kind of test? See if we still know them all?"

Cragen's brows knitted, the wrinkles in his forehead looked deeper today, his face more weathered. "No, I just didn't think saying the words, 'sexually abused nine-year-old' out loud would be something the entire unit needed to hear this early in the morning." He shook his head. "What's the matter with you?"

She tugged her black blazer down a bit as her face fell. "Nothing," she said, and then she licked her lips and tore the small square of paper out of Cragen's hand, reading it. "You're driving," she said to Elliot, without looking at him, holding the paper over her shoulder.

"Yeah, no shit," he said as he read the address, and then following as she moved.

"Elliot," Cragen called, his word stopping the detective in his tracks. When Elliot turned to face him, a question in his eyes, he said, "You find out what's up her ass, and you fix it, you got me?"

Elliot breathed out through his nose, his nostrils flaring, and he nodded, picking up speed to catch up to his partner. He finally reached her, panting and winded, and punched the button on the wall before she could. "What…" he breathed fast, "the fuck?"

She shook her head again, rolling her eyes. "I'm not in a good mood," she hissed.

"Well, really? I hadn't noticed," he spoke back to her. He shoved her into the elevator when the doors opened, and he prayed no one else would get on with them. He sighed when the doors slid shut, and they were alone. He turned to her, fast. "So what's pissing you off? The fact that I told Tucker? That I did it without you? Or were you just hoping that when someone did fucking find out about us, it would be over, your excuse to run from this, huh?"

Her head whipped toward him and the look in her eyes was one of deep hurt and ire. "How could you…" tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to speak, so she swallowed hard and looked away from him, sucking her lower lip into the space between her teeth, shaking her head.

Elliot slumped, then, feeling guilty and realizing he'd said the most misguided thing to her. "Well, then what…" He stopped talking and reached for her, one hand looping around her neck, the other around her waist, and he pulled her to him. "What's wrong? Baby, talk to…"

"After the hearing, right after they handed Jeffries a suspension," she said, with her voice monotone, as if she was trying to turn off all of her personal feelings, "Judge Schrieber stepped down from the bench, walked over to me, shook my God damned hand…and he said, 'I'll see you Tuesday,' and he winked at me." She pushed away from him when the doors opened again, and she walked out first, taking a breath and talking fast as they moved through the lobby. "A judge we have come to blows with more times than I can count…he winked at me. I turned around, I stopped him, I asked…'Well, what's happening on Tuesday?' He looked at me like I had five heads…and he told me…" She looked at Elliot, then, fear having replaced the fury in her eyes, and love taking over for the pain. "I'm being called as a character witness in a custody hearing."

Elliot narrowed his eyes, "What? Whose?"

She turned sharply, more confused than she was before, and slightly relieved. "You…you don't know? You weren't keeping this from me?"

Elliot, wide-eyed, shook his head quickly as he ushered her out of the way and toward the station's front doors. "What are you talking about?"

She folded her arms as they picked up the pace and headed for their car. "Elliot…it's yours. Your hearing. Tuesday. I thought you…God, he told me, and I felt like someone pulled a rug out from under me! I was hurt, shocked, confused, and…shit, Elliot, your ex-wife wants me to be the third-party deciding factor in…"

"Mine?" he questioned, frozen to his spot by the driver's side door. "No, she said she…" Stopping, he held up a finger as he dug his phone out of his pants pocket, tapping the screen and trying to navigate to his voicemail. He hit the button to play one of the two new messages. He clutched the phone between his ear and shoulder, rolled up the sleeves of his navy blue suit jacket and white shirt, and unlocked the car.

She got in first, trying to figure out if Kathy had wanted her there _instead_ of Elliot, or if he'd just forgotten about it, but when she heard his door slam, she looked at him for the answer. "What…"

"She called," he said, holding up the phone. "Yesterday, uh, while we were…" he cleared his throat. "In the locker room. She called again when I was talking to Tucker, I guess I just…never checked…" he shrugged, handed her his phone, and started the car. "So, yeah, um, preliminary hearing is Tuesday."

She exhaled harshly as she flew back in her seat and looked toward the roof of the car. "Christ, Elliot, you have no idea what was going through my mind." She swallowed the bile rising, as she thought of how she was supposed to be unbiased, when every cell in her body was devoted to Elliot. "I'll do it," she whispered. "For you. Not her. She wants honesty, she's going to get honesty."

"How much honesty?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Please," she huffed, "I'm not giving her ammunition, El. Nothing about…us." She looked at him, then, and she smiled. "Just how amazing a father you are, how caring, nurturing, supportive, protective…wonderful you are. How much you've done, sacrificed, worked for…"

"Okay, thanks for the ego boost," he said, chuckling. "You scared me, this morning. I have never seen you so…"

"I didn't know what to feel," she blurted, instantly regretting it. "I mean…Kathy asked for me, you didn't. I know, now, it's because you didn't know, and I assume she thought you told me so she wouldn't have to, but…part of me thought it was a vindictive move. I thought she did this, hoping I'd slip up and say something that would…"

"No, honey, I told you…Kathy and I…we're okay," he soothed, reaching for her hand with one of his as he turned the wheel with the other. "Now that you're, uh, calm…there's something I need to ask you to do for me."

She narrowed her eyes. "I already told you I would…"

"Not about that," he interjected, and his heart raced again, his nerves screaming for a new and different reason. "I need t-to ask you if…if you…" he stammered. He took a slow breath, trying to compose himself, trying to reassure himself that he had nothing to be afraid of, that she'd say yes, if he could just spit out the question. He turned the wheel again, heading down the victim's street. "I think it's time I…well, I don't think there's enough room at your place for the kids, even if it's just weekends, so I…"

"Yeah," she said, sighing. She closed her eyes as he parked the car behind two other black and white cars. "I'll help you pack. You got all worked up to ask me…"

"No, uh, we should, um, help each other pack," he said, pulling the keys out of the ignition. He turned, looked right into her stunned eyes, and said, "Would that be…something you'd want? A house? With me?"

All thought and pervasive doubt escaped her mind, her jaw dropped, and her head tilted just slightly. "Are you…you're not drunk, are you?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "No, I…Kathy's getting the house. I want to look for one…closer to work, the kids…I have to have the room for them, you know? No matter what happens, I want room enough for my kids…and…eventually…ours."

Her heart stopped. Air left her lungs like it leaves deflating balloons, and her lips quivered with the want to speak, but nothing happened. It seemed like only yesterday, that she had been simply fucking a married man, with no real prospect of it leading to more. Now, he was asking to start a real life with her. A home. Not just half her bed, that he could get up from and walk out of whenever he wanted. He wanted permanence with her, and the promise of a family. She tried to convince her brain to function, gasping for air, one hand flying to her chest, and as she nodded at him, a smile spread across her face.

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning like a giddy child. "Is that a yes? Really?"

"Elliot," she breathed, "If that's what you want…if you want…"

"I want a lot more than that," he whispered, leaning over the console to kiss her quickly. "But one step at a time okay?" He brushed the back of his hand across her face and then smoothed her hair back. "So, yes?"

She bit her lip again. "Yes," she whispered. And before the panic could set in again, she cleared her throat and got into work mode, pushing the personal to the back of her mind, and she got out of the car.

Elliot followed, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. He straightened out his tie, strutting toward the front door, where Olivia had stopped, and laughed to himself. As he got closer to the serious scene before him, though, his smile faded. Things were too easy, he thought. He knew that he had to watch his step, protecting himself, and Olivia, because he had a horrible feeling the walls would crumble around them before they could even be built.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	16. Chapter 16

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

The lawyer walked, back and forth, giving Olivia slight condescending looks. "My next question, Miss Benson…"

"Detective," she interjected, narrowing her eyes and flattening her smile.

The lawyer turned, grinning, "Right. _Detective_ Benson, have you ever witnessed the effects of your partner's noted temper?"

She narrowed her eyes. "All the time. He's a cop. The bad guys piss him off."

The lawyer tugged on her sleeves, and then poked her pen into her blonde hair in a clip at the back of her head, scratching it. "You know what I am asking, Detective. Has this aggression ever followed him home from work? Has he ever directed it toward his children?"

"Never," came Olivia's answer. It was fast, firm, and honest. "He's been the disciplinarian, of course, when he had to be, but it was never violent. Never anything beyond fatherly authority, or disappointment."

The lawyer frowned, her formerly smug smile turning into dour doubt. "Thank you, now…Detective Benson, are you aware that some people may look at your relationship with Elliot Stabler as…unorthodox? I mean to say, as his partner, his coworker, you certainly know a lot of rather intimate details of his life."

Olivia grinned back at her. "I've been working with him for eighteen hours a day, sometimes longer than that, for over a year. In that time, I would hope we talked about things other than work, or we'd most likely go crazy. He talks to me about his kids, and yes, he came to me to vent about his problems with Kathy, ask for advice, cry…because talking to her led to fighting, and that's why we're here." She shot Kathy a look. "As a matter of fact, a few months ago, Kathy came to me, herself, and thanked me for being there for him, asked me for advice, too, so now I suppose you're going to tell me I'm not supposed to be friends with my partner, his wife, ever meet his children…"

"Not at all," the lawyer interrupted. "I was…"

"I know what you were doing," Olivia said, her own condescending smile on her face. "Will you please redirect your line of questioning to pertain to the actual reason I was called here, today?"

The lawyer cleared her throat, exhaled slowly, and looked at Olivia. "How does working with the Special Victims Unit affect Elliot, in a personal capacity? The nature of the job…has to take its toll on him."

"Of course, it does," Olivia said, nodding. "But it doesn't go home with him, not…not the way you think it does. It makes him more eager…more determined to protect his children. It drives him to work harder, be faster, stronger…to get more of the monsters off the streets, so they can't hurt his babies." She wasn't aware that she was crying, at all. The tears slowly trickled down her cheeks as she spoke. "This job makes him a better man, because he sees, every day, how words and actions affect people, and it makes him more conscious of his own. He is more compassionate, because of the victims and their families. He is more fiercely defensive for his family, more capable of keeping them safe. He is more responsible and more aware of the ways he can keep his kids out of trouble. He is more devoted to them, and more passionate about…everything." She sniffled, but didn't wipe her eyes. "Yes, he has lot of anger, a lot of rage, but it is never, ever directed at anyone who doesn't deserve it, especially not his children."

"Has he ever directed it at you, Detective Benson?" the lawyer asked, her voice low, but her heart breaking at the sight of Olivia crying, truly touched by her emotion.

Olivia stiffened, sniffled again, and swallowed. "Like I said, he only directs his rage at people who deserve it." She looked into the lawyers eyes. "That man would give his life for his children. He has never, intentionally, neglected them. Sure this job…took him away from a soccer game or two, forced him to miss out on a dance recital or spelling bee, but God, you have no idea how upset he was each and every time. He would call them, every hour, on the hour, ask for a play-by-play, ask for pictures and videos, and as soon as he did what he had to do at work, he ran home like Forrest Gump." She laughed, through her tears, and said, "I never had a father, but if I did…I would have been the luckiest bitch in the world if he was even half of the father Elliot Stabler is, and I would be a much better person for it."

The lawyer had to old back her own tears, now. She cleared her throat, turned to look at Kathy, who was crying, too, and nodded sadly at her. "Thank you," she said, "Detective Benson, you can…um…you can step down." Then, she ripped off her glasses and squeezed the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes tightly, trying desperately not to feel like a monster.

Olivia didn't have to be told twice, she shot up, grabbed her jacket off of the empty seat next to Elliot, and then pointed and glared at Kathy. Through a tightly clenched jaw, she said, "If you ever try anything like that again, I'll arrest you." She finally realized, finally swiped the tears off of her cheeks, and stormed out of the room, letting the doors slam behind her.

Once in the hall, she dropped into the nearest bench to compose herself. She hated herself for crying on the stand, for not controlling herself, letting her emotions win. She made a fool out of herself, probably giving Kathy exactly what she wanted and embarrassing the hell out of Elliot. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she wiped the last of her tears away, taking a deep but shaky breath. She answered the phone, trying to sound functional, with a curt, "Benson." She bit her lip as she listened to her caller. Exhaling again, she smoothed her hair back and walked toward the front doors of the courthouse, adjusting her suit jacket and shirt as she moved. "No, uh, he's still in there. I just…I'm done," she said. Stepping out into the bright afternoon, she squinted and raised a hand to shield her eyes. "Address?" she asked, stepping toward the curb, throwing the hand out from above her eyes to over her head, hailing a cab. "No, just…let him…he needs the time, Cap. I'll be fine by myself." She laughed bitterly. "I always have been, I always will be," she said, more to herself than to Cragen. "I'm on my way now, I'll let you know when I get there." She hung up, shoved her phone back into her pocket, and opened the door of the cab that had just stopped in front of her. "Central Park, West," she said to the driver, and then she slumped back in her seat, hoping like hell she didn't just ruin her partner's life.

It was well past two-in-the-morning when she finally got back to her apartment. She didn't bother turning on the light, and squinting, she stepped over half-packed boxes and strewn books, trying to find a clear path to her bedroom. She was reaching for the knob when a clearing throat stopped her in her tracks. With one leg bent, mid-step, she turned to him. "What are you doing up?"

"What am I…" he tried to get to her, too fast, and tripped over a pile of books. He reached for her, grabbing and bringing her down with him, as he toppled to the floor.

"What the hell, Elliot?" she huffed, exhausted, and in no mood for anything other than crawling into her bed. "What the fuck?"

He scoffed, but held her down, not letting her wriggle away from him. "You left. You just…fucking…left."

She breathed out slowly, keeping herself up. "Well, yeah, I did. I wasn't going to sit there and listen to that bitch steamroll you, make you out to be some kind of…"

"Did you mean it?" He cut her off with the question, his eyes finding hers in the dimly lit room. "Everything you said?"

She bit her lip and looked away from him. "I was under oath," she said, rolling her eyes. When she looked down at him again, though, her resolve faded. "I meant every word."

He reached one hand up and brushed her hair behind her ear. "You have never…and will never…deserve to bear the brunt of…"

"I pushed your buttons," she interrupted him this time. "I know that. I know I still do, and I know…"

He pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I never meant to yell at you, not like…not like that, and I have apologized a hundred…"

"Just…tell me what happened, please?" She felt her nose burn again, and she'd already cried too much today, enough to last her at least two years, in her mind.

"Well," he sighed, "What you said…made the judge reconsider a lot of things."

Her head dropped, her eyes closed. "Shit," she breathed. "I'm sorry, I am so sorry. I knew, as soon as I started talking that I…"

"Damn it, woman," he laughed, stopping her yet again. "Can I talk, please?" He smiled up at her and said, "He reconsidered giving Kathy primary custody, and he asked me…if I would have any sort of help with them, and I told him, yeah, I have you, and the man laughed like a fucking hyena as he told me and Kathy his final decision…was joint custody. We split the year, right down the middle. I'm getting them from June to the end of December. And, you know, we'll go back-and-forth until they turn sixteen, and then they can decide for themselves who they want to…"

"Wait, what? You...you got...what?" Olivia sputtered, overlapping him, still trying to process how her emotional tirade could have helped instead of made things worse.

"I got them, for a lot longer than a weekend or two a month," Elliot told her. "Because of you. Because you...what you said..." he blinked. "We, uh, we told the kids, and they're...they're all okay with it. Maureen is the only one who doesn't cherish the idea of playing parent ping-pong for the next few years." He cupped Olivia's face and took another deep breath. "But when it's time for her to decide, then, I, uh, I hope she'll rather stay with us." He licked his lips. "God, I hope they all do." He narrowed his eyes, then. "You really…what you said today, Liv, it meant everything to me, and I need you to know…it's not just my kids. I would lay down my life, for you, too. Everything you said…it all goes double for you."

"You're not…you're not mad at me?" she asked, her worried brow relaxing into relief.

He shook his head. "I fell in love with you, all over again, when I heard you say that…that you think of me like…" he stopped because his voice cut out, a lump formed in the back of his throat, and he did the only thing that his heart, mind, and body collectively needed to do: he kissed her. To him, hearing her declarations about the kind of man he was forgave the months of refusing to tell him how she felt, the countless hours spent begging for her to just say the words. It was as though she made up for all of the half-uttered I-love-yous she gave him before finally letting herself say it, and convinced him how completely and fervently she meant it.

One of his hands slipped downward, shoving its way into her black suit pants, beneath the silk of her underwear. He twisted his wrist and worked his middle and ring finger between the petals of hot flesh, moaning at how quickly she slickened for him. Still kissing her, he curled his fingers, laying his thumb, pinky, and forefinger flat against her body. Slowly, he pushed his two hooked fingers into her core, cursing against her lips. He began to thrust his fingers, fast, eager. He groaned, feeling her heat surround his fingers. He pressed his palm upward, rubbing against her clit as he worked his fingers. He didn't know where it came from, but had an overwhelming need to make her cum, fast and hard.

It hit her fast, and she screamed his name as her body tensed, her legs seizing on either side of him as her hips rolled and bucked, riding his fingers.

He used his free hand to keep her head still, against his, deepening their kiss. He moved his fingers faster still, shaking when he felt her juices begin to splash his skin, her walls tighten around his digits.

She squealed against his lips, a tone almost too high for him to hear, and then she growled as her entire body quaked and vibrated.

He slowed his thrusting hand, slowly eased his fingers out of her, and then pulled back, away from her. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he kept her eyes on her as he sucked each one clean, rolling his eyes and moaning in pleasure at her taste.

Breathless, she shivered and twitched, letting out a low growl of her own. "God, Elliot, why the hell…"

"You'll never know," he panted, trying to sit up without forcing her to move. He gripped her hips to keep her on him, against him, as he sat upright. He held her close and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "You will never know…how much I…God, I love you."

Her head fell to his shoulder, her eyes closed as she tried to regulate her breathing, and she whispered, "I love you." As she felt him moving, lifting her up as he rose off the floor, she realized that he had changed her, he had forever altered her, and she had forgotten how to be the woman she was before him, hoped she would never have to get reacquainted with her. "El?" she said his name, a question, a plea.

"Hmm?" he intoned in reply, laying her on the bed. He pulled off her shoes, and then tugged off her socks, nd then started to drag down her pants and that black silk sheath, undressing her.

She was silent for a moment, watching him so tenderly tending to her. "I, um, I talked to my mother, today…and I told her…about you. Us."

He dropped her pants into the hamper and started to pull apart the buttons of her shirt. "Yeah? You…really?"

She nodded, twisting her lips into an unsure pout. "She, uh…she wants to meet you." She looked cautiously at him, stunned to see how longingly he was looking at her, taking off her shirt and blazer without averting his eyes from hers. "I mean, do you, um…would you…uh…"

"As soon as we move, get the kids settled," he said, kissing her softly, his hands moving around her back, unhooking her bra. "I would love to meet her…and tell her…" he paused as he sat down next to her, gently running his palms over her naked body, and bending his head to kiss her. "How much she missed out on, how incredible you are, how love and loving, how strong, and fearless…and I have a question to ask her."

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and kissed him, her tongue prying into his mouth, a moan falling into it. But, plaguing her, in the back of her mind, was the perilous thought that having Elliot and her mother in the same place, at the same time, might be a very bad idea.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	17. Chapter 17

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Well, that was..." she began, her face screwed up in a resigned smile as her eyes filled with tears, and she waved both hands, telling fate it had won. "That was my mom." She let out an embittered chuckle as she wiped away the tears from her right cheek.

"Hey, hey," he said, whispering to her as he swiped the drops falling out of her left eye. "We had a great time, and she is…she is so proud of you, so happy for you, for us." He brushed his thumb under her eyes and said, "She had a couple of drinks…" he paused, sighed, and then said, "And she changed. When I drove her home, baby, she was already swinging back around to sober, and she actually gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me to take care of her baby girl."

Olivia smiled, though more tears fell. "Those are the parts of her that I love," she said. "But, God, why did she have to show you the parts that I hate, too?"

Elliot smoothed her hair back and erased a few more tears from her beautiful face. "You know, she'll sleep it off, and honey…she loves you." He pulled her closer to him, pressing his cold lips against her heated cheeks. "Whatever demons she had to face, to get to a good place with you…she's still battling them. My dad, he was the same way. He slipped up, every now and then, and two drinks in, he wasn't my dad anymore."

She sniffled and looked up at him. "We have more in common than we realized," she said softly. "I'm just glad the kids were in bed before they could see that side of her." She took a deeper breath, feeling her lungs and ribs swell. She let it out slowly, closing her eyes. She repeated the action twice, as if meditating. "Right," she said, nodding. "You're right. We had a nice time with her, and she really did seem…happy."

He nodded, giving her a warm smile, and he drew swirling circles on her back with his fingertips, calming her down. "She loves the place, too," he told her, grinning.

"She said the kitchen looks like a tea garden exploded," she laughed, recalling the look on her mother's face when she walked into the eat-in room and saw the obnoxious floral wallpaper, its huge blossoms in shades of red and pink staring back at her.

Elliot laughed, then, too. "Well, it's a country kitchen, in the middle of the city. Unexpected, a little shabby chic, and…very…loud." He kissed her lips, smiling against them. "We have a kitchen," he whispered to her.

Her hands dragged up his body to his face, one resting on either side, and she held him still as she kissed him and nodded. "And a living room, five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a garage, driveway…"

He kissed her again, a bit deeper, a bit harder. "A house," he mumbled against her lips. "Home." He slowly licked the small part between her lips, making her moan, and then pulled away a bit. "We're home."

"With you," she breathed, still holding his head in her hands, "I'm home." She pressed her lips to his again, this time willingly opening to him when he prodded for it. A soft crooning sound left her mouth, flittering into his, as she pulled his head closer to hers.

He growled softly as he leaned his body against hers, pressing her down into the sofa and flattening her beneath him. He chuckled as he kissed her, feeling her jerk and twitch as his fingers grazed her skin. "Ticklish," he purred into her open mouth. It was something that surprised him when he first discovered it; he never imagined the bold, strong, walking-wet-dream he had for a partner would be ticklish, but one of their earliest nights together, a night that he'd decided to bring truth and emotion into the bedroom with him, he spent a few moments teasing her, playfully skimming his clipped fingernails over her skin. When she laughed and kicked her legs, he knew, and it made him fall a little harder.

Her two index fingers toyed with the thin skin just behind his ears, an action, she realized, had the most amazing effects on him. His ears, the back of his neck, behind his knees, the spots between his fingers and toes, the inner bends of his elbows, and the carved out crevice between his muscles near his hips were his hidden and less-obvious erogenous zones. He confessed to her, after a night of beer, pizza, and incredible sex, that he didn't even realize they drove him crazy until she touched them, until she took the time to taunt, lick, and arouse every single part of his body. She remembered his voice, his exact words. "No one has ever done that, no one has ever loved me the way you do, and fuck, Liv, no one else ever will." That was the catalyst, she recalled, that made their relationship more than an affair, and more powerful than either of them thought possible.

"Baby," he whispered, kissing her and toying with her hair.

"Hmm?" she purred against his lips.

He thrust his hips, grinding against her, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to him. "Unless you want to make a fucking mess all over our pretty new couch," he said, bucking down into her again, "You need to stop."

She smirked and pressed her fingers harder against the backs of his ears, dipping them into the shells and along the edges. She felt him shudder, felt his breath vibrate in a shiver against her lips. "Messes can be cleaned up," she said, arching her own body upward, egging him on.

"You're asking for it, Benson," he hissed, moving one hand up her body, the other down the other side, shoving it into her pants.

She nodded and let out a silent and breathy laugh. "Oh, I know I am, Stabler," she whispered against the skin of his chin. The moment reminded her so much of their earliest romps, when it was frenzied, lust-fueled, when they didn't have the patience or desire to make it to the bedroom, when they needed to be ready to get dressed and leave at a moment's notice, when their whole lives weren't consumed by each other.

He finally worked his left hand down into her slacks, grinning victoriously at her while he dragged two fingers along her wet folds, making her eyes roll and her jaw drop. "Fuck," he spat, sliding his fingers down and up again, coating his digits in her slickness. "I did that," he declared proudly.

She nodded, moaning, and her hands dropped from his ears to his ass, cupping and squeezing, holding him down against her as she rocked her body into his. "Elliot," she mewed, needing more of him.

He pulled his hand out of her pants roughly, and then rose up onto his knees, keeping them braced around her. He pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it behind him, and grinned down at her as he unbuckled and removed his belt.

Her hands flew to his waist, and, eagerly, she pulled open his button and unzipped his jeans.

He shoved them down, over his hips, and kicked them off with a laugh. He moved, then, reaching for her shirt, grabbing the material, and pulling it, hard.

She laughed with him, helping him get her out of her clothes, which was no easy feat with her trapped under his Adonis-like body.

Finally, with another hearty chuckle, he yanked her pants off, over her feet, and threw them to the floor. He turned back, ready to pounce, but he froze when his eyes landed on her. His body stiffened but his expression softened, he smiled down at her, and slowly, he reached for her hand. He grabbed it, pulled it to his lips, kissed each of her knuckles individually, and then sighed. He climbed off of her, his naked body righting itself.

She raised an inquisitive brow, but let him pull her to her feet, and she followed him, barefoot and nude, into the nearest bedroom, one that they'd decided would be a guest room, if they ever needed one. "El, what are you…"

"You're so fucking beautiful," he said to her, pulling her close to him. "I just…can't believe you're real, you're mine, after everything we had to go through, we're standing in a house, _our_ house, and you look…you are every fantasy, every dream I have ever had, live and in…well…the flesh."

She kissed underneath his chin, down his neck, across his clavicle, up his right cheek, and finally his lips. "I could say the same thing about you." She wrapped her arms around his waist, becoming more aware of each patch of her skin touching his, fitting against him like perfectly cut puzzle pieces.

He kissed her, winding his hands in and through her hair, and he moved them backward toward the bed. He carried her with him as he lay down, smoothing his hands up and down her back and ass.

Moaning against his lips, her fingers worked down his waist, along the sides of his thighs, until they nestled between her legs, wrapping around his hard, thick length. She smirked when he groaned and bucked his hips, and she stroked him a few times before raising her body slightly, moving his shaft, and sliding herself down, onto him, sheathing him completely.

"Oh, my God," he rumbled, squeezing his eyes shut tightly while savoring the feeling of how fully she encapsulated him, loving the way his flesh met hers, filling her to the absolute limit. "Liv, baby," he spoke, his voice like wet gravel.

She stayed, still and tense, adjusting to his girth and waiting for a pang of pain to subside. She had never felt so full, not until him, and it took a while for her to be able to take all of him. The first night, the first time he took the chance, they both saw stars. It became agonizingly and beautifully clear that they had reached parts of each other, wholly, both physically and emotionally, that no one else had, would, or could. "El," she whispered, giving the first rock of her hips.

He watched in awe as her lip was sucked between her teeth, her dark shoulder length hair fell in her eyes, and her breasts bounced slowly with her moving body. He felt her nails rake across his chest, twice, before she flattened her palms over his pecs. His hands slid from her ass to her hips, and he gripped her as she picked up speed, riding him.

Their eyes locked, and so, it appeared, had their voices. It was nearly silent as they moved, his hips rising to fill her, meeting her as she fell with small slapping sounds. The only other noises were their breathy pants and soft murmurs, professions of love and worship.

They both heard the shrill intruding ringtones filtering in from the living room, and they both chose to ignore them for a moment longer, finishing what they'd started, eager to bring each other over the proverbial edge and into a state of pure bliss, before giving it all up for a night in hell.

"Don't…don't stop, baby," he said, his jaw clenched, holding her tighter.

She moved faster, shaking her head. "Didn't plan on it." It took only a few more hard thrusts on his part, and she felt herself being ripped at the seams. Her joints burned, her toes curled, her heart thudded and every muscle in her body tightened as she dropped her head back and cried his name, cumming for him.

Her tight and pulsating walls seduced his own release from him, and he cursed under his breath while his cock pumped into her, spilling inside of her. "Oh, fuck, baby," he panted again, involuntarily sitting up and wrapping around her. She had clenched around him again, her body rolling in waves, riding out a second, more intense orgasm.

They were still, wrapped around each other, trying to catch their breath. "El, I can't…"

He kissed her as his body jerked and convulsed with hers, reeling into sweet aftershocks. "What?" he cajoled, nudging her with his nose. "What, Liv?"

"I can't live without you," she whispered, as if it killed her to admit it and brought her back to life to submit to it.

He smiled. "Baby, I can't live without you, either. I have no intention of ever doing that." He kissed her again, but pulled back with a complaining moan, hearing their phones ring again. "I got it," he said. He rolled her off of him, pulling out of her with a groan.

She watched him run out of the room, grinning. "I love him," she whispered to the empty room with a content grin. When he appeared in the doorway again, though, her smile faded. "What…what is it?"

"Get dressed," he said, holding his phone in his hands. "We, uh, we have to go."

She got up, on weak knees, and walked out into the living room with him, picking up the discarded pants and blouse she was wearing. "What have we got?"

"It's…it's not a case, baby," he said, his eyes dry but red, as he sniffled and zipped up his jeans.

"Elliot," she said, pulling up and zipping her black pants. "You're scaring me, what happened?"

He tugged on his shirt, moved toward her, and clutched her face in his hands. "Cragen…had a heart attack," he told her. "He's…at the hospital, and they're…trying to..." he lost his words on a sob, shaking his head. He caught her as she fell, collapsing into his arms. He kissed the crown of her head and held her as she cried, but he nudged her away gently. "We have to get down there, if anything…"

"Don't say it," she said, wiping her eyes. She pulled her shirt on and slipped her feet into her shoes, smoothing out her hair. She realized that her night ended the way it started. With her in tears. She cried over her mother just over an hour ago, and now, she was crying for the man who had become like her father. She took his hand as he made a quick call, waking up one of his brothers to come stay with the kids.

As he locked the door and set the alarm, he looked at her and said, "He's going to be fine."

She smiled, but she wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her, or himself.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	18. Chapter 18

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

She had been in the waiting room of Mercy General Hospital countless times over the years, from her childhood visits as a patient, to the innumerable ventures on the job, even moreso since she became a detective with the Special Victims Unit. This time was different. So vastly different.

The walls were not as white as they once were, they were grey now. Grim. They seemed to be closing in on her, the longer she stared at them. The floors seemed like pathways to a different world, one she had no desire to encounter. The noises, the beeps and buzzes, the chattering and clicking of keyboard keys, ringing phones and codes being called over loudspeakers, all of it blurred and muffled before it hit her ears. She jumped when his arm looped around her waist, but almost immediately, she relaxed into him. Her head fell to his chest, her eyes closed, and she felt his hold tighten.

"He's going to be fine," he whispered, being less carefully concerned with appearances in spite of the room filled with colleagues and superiors. He figured if anyone had a problem with their intimate closeness at the moment, they were stone-hearted. He caught sight of Sergeant Tucker, knee-deep in intense conversation with his partner, and he let himself relax a little. Everyone who really needed to know already did, and anyone else would just have to keep guessing. He turned back to her and brushed his nose against her cheek softly. "He'll be fine."

She could do no more than nod as her fingers curled tighter around the fabric of his tee shirt, and the deep breath she took filled her lungs with the musky scent of pure Elliot, calming her even more. "What if..."

"No," he interrupted, shaking his head. "Not an option. Okay?" He stared down at her with a bit of the dominance that often swelled in the bedroom. He saw the brief flash of submission in her eyes just before her lips curled into a small smile, and she nodded again. He lowered his head and moved, but before he could kiss her, two loud voices called for him and Olivia.

"They tell you guys anything?" Cassidy asked, holding out a hand to a now stiffened and upright Olivia.

She looked at it and tried to decide what he was attempting to do. Ignoring the gesture, she shook her head. "No, we...we're not family." She scoffed, parroting the words that were always thrown at her whenever Elliot was injured on the job, feeling the same pangs of pain and guilt she always felt when she had to wait for his wife to show up before someone would give her answers.

Dropping his hand with a sigh, Cassidy licked his lips. "We're his family. Damn it, we...we are, aren't we?"

"Not according to the fucking asshole doctors in this place," Tucker chimed in, coming up behind Cassidy. "All they'll tell me is they'll tell us when they can."

Munch exhaled slowly, closing his eyes behind his wired frames. "I don't get it."

"He used to drink," Olivia said, slumping over again, staring at a spot on the floor. "We all know that, he, us, he stopped, he goes to meetings, but it still...there's a lot of damage left behind. The heart, the liver, the kidneys, they're all...damaged." She dropped her head into her hands and rubbed them down her face. "God, Mom," she whisper-moaned.

"Hey, hey," Elliot soothed, running his open palm in circles at her back. "She's fine, baby, we were just with her, she's perfectly fine."

"Baby?" Cassidy asked, the word coming out like something between a scoff and a laugh. He cleared his throat and stopped grinning when he saw the glare Elliot was shooting him. "Okay, yeah, so how do we get them to tell us..."

"We just wait," Tucker said, clearly frustrated with the situation. "I don't like it any more than you do." He turned his head toward Olivia and Elliot. "You two okay? You had a hell-of-a-week."

Elliot scraped his teeth over his bottom lip as he nodded. "Getting there," he said. He looked directly at Tucker, almost challenging him, as he ran his arm up and looped it over Olivia's shoulders. "Closer by the minute."

Tucker rolled his eyes and turned. "I'm going to go, now," he said, hiding his smile as the laughter behind his back reached his ears.

As he faded from view, Olivia sighed and let herself lean back into Elliot. "It shouldn't be taking this long."

Munch opened his mouth, prepared to ask the question he already knew the answer to, but was cut off by the doctor walking toward their formed group. Olivia shot to her feet, holding her breath, robotically taking and shaking the hand that was offered to her.

"Detectives," the doctor greeted, having had a fair share of interactions with all four of them in the past year, "Just once, I would like to meet you under happier circumstances."

"How is he?" Elliot asked, gripping Olivia's arm.

The doctor nodded, understanding the impatience in needing to know. "Your captain will make a full recovery, but he needs to take some time off, and he should avoid any and all stress..."

"What caused it?" Olivia interrupted, unable to push the parallels between her mother and Cragen to the back of her mind, the worry and wonder escalating again. She felt Elliot squeeze her arm a bit harder.

"High cholesterol, clogged arteries, and high blood pressure," the doctor told them. "Which is why he needs to take it easy, avoid stressful or tense situations, and I'm putting him on a very strict diet, please, make sure he sticks to it." He nodded a them, checked his watch, and said, "He really shouldn't have visitors, but we're getting him settled in a recovery room, you can go up and see him, two at a time, five minutes, got it? Room 425."

They nodded, smiled, shook his hand, and thanked him, and then all four of them seemed to fully allow themselves to relax. Olivia nearly collapsed into Elliot's open, waiting arms, and she felt him shudder with a relieved sigh as she pressed against him.

"You, uh, you two should go first," Munch said, pointing at Olivia and Elliot. "Like Tucker said, you had a rough week."

"Man, you don't know the half of it," Elliot said on another sigh. He nodded his thanks and then walked fast, holding Olivia's hand, toward the elevator.

Cassidy stared after them. "What the hell is really going on with them?"

Munch grinned, but shrugged. "I have no idea."

 _ **I know this is very short, but I have been swamped at work and found a little time to write for myself. There's more to come.**_

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**For those of you reading this that do not follow me on Twitter, a few months ago I was involved in a very bad car accident that left me with several broken bones. I'm so lucky and blessed to be, not only alive, but on the mend.**_

 _ **This story continues.**_

 _ **Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of characters, setting and plot lines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"You look like you're feeling better," Munch said, stopping beside Olivia's desk on the way to his. "Are you, though?"

She smiled at him, her doe eyes somehow brighter than they had been recently. "Just fine, Munch. Thanks." She shot a look over to Elliot, and for the first time in weeks, he was clean-shaven, in a pressed suit, without too much worry on his face and a joy in his eyes that hadn't been fully visible in a while. "I'm...I'm good," she said, looking up at Munch and nodding.

Munch smiled down at her. "Glad to hear it," he said, and he moved over to his desk and sat, before turning his attention to his partner. "Don't," he warned, seeing Cassidy beginning to move. "She's in a good mood, so just...don't."

Cassidy brushed off Munch's warning, shuffling his feet and rolling his chair over to her. "Morning, Liv."

She turned her head, but still held her stapler and file in her hands, not saying anything beyond, "Morning," with a placating smile. She turned back to her paperwork.

"What are you doing after we get out of here, tonight?" Cassidy looked at her with hope in his eyes and venom on his lips.

She rubbed a hand along her cheek and eyes Elliot, who was pretending not to listen. "I'm going home," she said, and then she looked right at him, "To be with my boyfriend."

Cassidy made a noise like an injured puppy, and he nodded at her. "Oh, I, uh, I didn't know...I didn't know you were seeing anybody."

"I try to keep my personal life...you know...personal." She shrugged and twisted her lips, and then resumed her paperwork.

Not happy, Cassidy leaned over, lowered his voice, and let out a hard breath before speaking. "Your boyfriend know you were with Stabler, last night?"

Her head turned, her eyebrow crooked. "What?" she asked him, her voice almost threatening.

"I saw you two," he sneered, "Practically in each other's lap, and the way you left…"

"He's my partner," Olivia fumed, "And my best friend! We were there because Cragen had a fucking heart attack, you honestly think we wouldn't look to each other for a little comfort?" She shook her head. "What the hell is your problem?"

Balking, and backing away, Cassidy cleared his throat. "Yeah," he said softly. "Right. Sorry." He wheeled back over to his desk and rotated his shoulders a bit, catching Munch's amused and annoyed expression.

"I told you," Munch huffed, "She was in a good mood, you opened your mouth, now she's ready to kill somebody." He breathed out through his nostrils. "I hope it's you."

"So do I," Elliot said, grinning menacingly, proving he had been listening after all. He shook his head, the happy glow on his face now gone, and he ran his hand down his face, making an irritated expression as if, for the first time, realizing how rough his skin was. "Anyone talk to Tucker? Or Cheif…?

Munch sighed loudly. "Tucker's coming down here in about an hour, wants to talk about temporary assignments, policy changes, what happens if…" he yanked off his glasses and dropped his head with another hard sigh, grunting. "Fuck this."

"John," Olivia breathed, standing and heading over to him. She rested a friendly hand on shoulder, unsure of what to do. She'd never seen Munch ever show any emotion, other than passionate anger, and she wasn't sure how to respond to his soft, silent tears.

"I'm okay," Munch affirmed, clearing his throat. He pushed his glasses back on, up the bridge of his nose. "I'm okay," he said again as he nodded, as if convincing himself more than Olivia.

Olivia pulled her hand away and shot Cassidy a worried look, and she saw something in his eyes that she'd never noticed, or was it that she chose to ignore? She shook her head and moved back toward her desk, but before she could sit down, a frantic young woman ran through the squad room.

"I need...I need to…" her words were broken, a thick accent hanging on them. "I need to talk to detective...uh, um, Stabler," she spat, mispronouncing the name as she waved her hands and swirled her head around, looking for a man she didn't know.

Elliot eyed Olivia as he stood up. "I'm Detective Stabler," he said, reaching out a hand to grab onto the panicked woman's arm. He helped her into a chair and sat on the edge of his desk. "This is my partner, Detective Benson, what can we…"

"I have card," she shouted, brandishing a clenched fist at him. Between her curled fingers, she clutched one of his business cards. Shaking, she opened her hand and let the balled up cardstock shake its way over to him. "I call you."

"Slavic, Serbian, I think," Olivia whispered to him with narrow eyes, picking up the nuances in the accent.

Elliot nodded as he unfolded the card and when he saw the swirly handwriting on the back, he sighed in realization. "She's one of Sister Peg's girls," he said softly to Olivia, holding up the back of the card to her.

"What's your name, honey?" Olivia asked gently. Her hand looped softly around the young woman's, and she tried to smile.

Seeming to calm, the girl looked down into her hand and traced Olivia's fingers with her trembling thumb. "Jana," she said on a sob. "I have trouble. I have big trouble."

"Get her some water," Olivia gently demanded of Elliot, and as soon as he got up, she asked, "Kakve nevolje?" In quick, fluent Serbian, she asked what kind of trouble the girl was in, and the look of relief in the young woman's eyes as she looked up at Olivia was heartbreaking.

The girl began to recount her story in her native tongue, tears falling, her hand grasping Olivia's tightly, and when Elliot reappeared with a cup of water, the girl took it from him gratefully and drank it down in one gulp.

Olivia turned her eyes away from the calmed down young woman, looking up at Elliot. "She was raped in one of the offices at INS. She says someone promised her a new life, took her down to the federal building, gave her a bunch of papers and told her to ask for a man named…"

"Brantwood," Elliot finished, his eyes narrow. "Think we can make this one stick?"

A voice from behind the traumatized girl said, "With skills like you two have, and a living victim, you're gonna nail the son-of-a-bitch."

Elliot's head popped up and he made sure Olivia could finish taking Jana's statement without him before walking away, over to the new man in the room. "What happened?" he asked, suddenly worried.

Ed Tucker frowned and shook his head. "Nothing," he said, "I just...I'm a little early, I know, but…"

"Right," Elliot sighed. "Sorry, we just...we're all afraid we're gonna get a phone call about…" he couldn't finish the sentence. "What, uh, what do you want us to do, here?"

Tucker grinned. "You're doing it," he said, shrugging. "Your jobs. I saw that," he pointed at Olivia. "How many fucking languages does she speak?"

"A fair few," Elliot laughed. But then, he let out a heavy sigh and folded his arms. "You know what I meant."

Tucker mimicked his actions, and Olivia shot them both a curious glance, a smirk on her face. They looked eerily similar, brooding, penetrating blue eyes, and a body made of attitude and muscle. She bit her lip as her eyes focused only on Elliot; he was younger than Tucker, more rough around the edges, but his heart was pure, he had a sensitive side, compassion, and he loved her with everything he had. She loved him just as hard. She gasped when he stared back at her, and watched him blow her a kiss and then rolled her eyes and resumed talking with the scared young woman.

"You," Tucker said, snapping Elliot's attention away from Olivia. "Don't look at me like that. It's temporary, and I already hauled my ass down here, twice, after Morris moved you and Benson up the ladder, trying to push harder for your exam results. I got them, last night."

"Exam…" his eyes widened. "You made me and Liv take that fucking test because you knew Cragen was…"

Tucker held up a hand. "No, listen to me," he breathed. "I needed the two of you to take it, I needed you both on deck, not just for this unit, but…" he scratched his fingers over the side of his left cheek. "You're good, you know that? Damn fucking good. If any unit in this city started to fail, I needed a way to stop the ship from sinking, get me? So whether it was SVU or not, one of you would have been an option to…"

"Both of us," Elliot questioned, his words cutting off Tucker's, "You were planning on making both of us head up different units?"

"Well, when the time came, yeah," Tucker affirmed. "One of you would take over here, and I would try to get the other into another office ASAP, because I know you, neither of you would put up with that for any longer than, what, a week?"

Elliot smirked. "We take orders from each other all the time."

Staring blankly at Elliot, Tucker shook his head. "Not going there," he sid. "Point is, the time came a lot earlier than expected, and I need you to take the gig, now." He looked into Elliot's suddenly terrified eyes. "Relax, I'm not pulling her rank anytime soon, and you're only going to be the acting captain, it's only temporary." He let his eyes move toward Olivia again. "Neither of you is ready for it, full-time. A lot of shit between you two is still...new, no? I can't tear you away from the only partner you've ever had that fucking works, and she's only been here a year, she's got a lot left to prove, and I think…" he looked back at Elliot. "She can only do it with you."

Nodding, Elliot bit his lip. "What about Munch, you don't think he's earned…"

"Munch looks good on paper," Tucker interrupted, "And when Cragen retires, if Munch hasn't yet, the job is his. But...this isn't a retirement, it's not a power-play by One-P-P, and it's not administrative leave. Don had a fucking heart-attack, I am not going to add more stress to Munch, now, when he looks like he's about to have one, too."

Hanging his head a bit, and running a hand over his face, Elliot said, "Yeah. Okay. Fine. What do I do?"

Tucker shrugged. "I already told you, El, just do your job." He slapped a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Nothing changes, other than...you make the calls, the decisions, you have to handle the brass, and the discipline. Other than that," he saw where Elliot's eyes had drifted and his whole body seemed to soften. "You're still her partner, I promise you that."

Elliot nodded again, silently thanking him, and he moved. "I should...tell them."

Tucker gave a single nod and then turned to leave, knowing he had something he needed to tell them, too, but it was just going to have to wait.

 _ **Thank you to anyone still reading this.**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


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